Bearclaw Valley you are a story

Ico had been squirreling away sundry items in his little den. It was a challenge he'd set himself; to find objects that represented the stories behind each of his new packmates. To represent Merrick, for example, he'd acquired a bear's long claw. For Fields, a mysterious hazel stone that looked like it had been beaten by the river for a hundred years. For Evien, dried lavender.

As the pale sprite surfaced back into the late morning light, he decided to follow the stream, slim muzzle low, in search of extra mementos, more stories, and — if he was lucky — further insights into the souls of Ursus.

He'd seen this one around at meetings... knew nothing of him, but was curious about the little fox. Pretty, prettier than Evien- maybe he nagged less too, and then Toad would have a real gem to admire. Anyway, Toad caught the sight of the pale boy alongside a stream of water, and so made his way towards him quietly. Hey, um... I've seen you around. I'm Toad... who're you? Already off to a better start than with Evien, whose first impression of Toad had been his vomiting. Maybe this could be better.

Ico's ears perked up at a voice and a grassy scent, and he turned to regard a chap with verdant eyes. He'd seen this Toad at the recent gathering. Ico gave a slightly timid smile; I'm Ico. You have a rather marvellous name... he could not help but add, his curious tone indicating that he'd very much like to hear the reasoning for such a peculiar moniker.

He introduced himself as Ico. Simple- just like the boy himself, who despite having a sense of etherality to him, still seemed down to earth. Not like Merrick, or Tsylor, who seemed to abound with secrets. He liked the other two well enough, but types like this were nice too, and Toad appreciated the balance. Ico, He hummed thoughtfully, It's a pleasure. I- I like your name too. The coffee-cream frogboy was not the sharpest, but he knew when someone was curious, especially with a tone like that- and so he offered an awkward shrug and a laugh. Shaking his head, It's- it's a silly name, I know. You don't have to lie. My mom was crazy, He admitted good-humoredly, though his gaze shifted away uncomfortably. Could he forgive her for such a crime to his dignity?

Ico chuckled, but it was a warm sound, amiable and gently sympathetic. He would never laugh at anyone as nice and cool as Toad. But he wanted to see if he could coax out the story behind the unusual name and the "crazy mom", and he had an inkling as to how he could begin the process:

I have a little story behind my name, if you'd like to hear it...?

He chuckled, but Toad did not feel ridiculed in spite of this. There was a sort of 'home' to Ico that made Toad feel he was not like the Ursus expectation- so far he had not encountered any blistering attitude, nor love for violence, only a gentle curiosity. At the next statement, Toad cocked his head curiously, smile slipping onto his face. Oh? Do share, please, He encouraged with genuine curiosity, unsure what sort of a story might be behind 'Ico'.

Ico smiled gladly. Telling stories was easy for him, but telling a wanted story was nothing short of pleasant. And so he proceeded, with a little flicker of his tailtip.

Well, I am named not after one but after three individuals. One whose name begins with 'I', one with 'C', one with 'O'... hence 'Ico'. The first was my own mother, a white Scout called India. The second was less expected... an elder named Cedar, who sombrely told my mother she would birth a litter not of three pups but of thirteen... a bizarre and (thankfully) false divination that nonetheless was memorable enough to linger in her mind for many long seasons.

The story was interesting, and Toad admired the naming abilities, wishing he was titled something like Ico or India. He couldn't fully understand why Cedar would get a place in Ico's name if his prediction was wrong, (clearly he was a crazy old bastard anyway,) but another question gnawed more at Toad's mind. Damn, that's... really cool. But, uh, the 'O'? Did that come from your father? Toad questioned, pushing him to continue the tale.

Ico shook his head thoughtfully, glancing up over Toad's tawny shoulder and into the mid-distance and he pondered over the 'O'. For this was the first time Ico had told this story.

Hell, it was the first time it had even occurred to him, and he did not know how true it was.

I'm not sure who my father was. But I have some hazy memory of an ancient wolf called Oma, she died when I was very small. My mother talked about her all the time. I think she was raised by her. I'm not sure.

It was perhaps evident that Ico's mother hadn't talked to him much.

For this part, it seemed Ico had to recall some piece of information, as his gaze momentarily flitted into the distance. Toad waited for a moment, and then ruddy ears flicked forward as the fox spoke. No idea who his father was- the same as Toad. And 'Oma', who seemed like she might've been an ancestor of Ico, or something like it. For a moment, the mercenary pondered if such a name- Oma- had also come from the three letters of valued people, like Ico's own. These questions were not brought to fruition as he remained quiet for some moments. 

Finally he released a breath and nodded. I see. ...I would've liked to be named as you were. A name with precious meanings that honored past lives was so much prettier than a name like his own, he thought. Toad was quiet after that, expectant of Ico's words, though feeling things might dwindle to a close in their conversation soon.

Ico might almost have replied me too, admitting that his story was more wishful thinking and inspired speculation than verifiable truth. But as much as he liked Toad, he didn't know him well enough to explain the odd thinking behind this story, so he decided to leave it there — for now, anyway.

Sometimes I wish I had a name like yours, the boy replied warmly — and truthfully. It stands out. It's a talking point! Ico was already starting to fabricate a sundry array of stories behind the name "Toad"...

Happy to fade here if you are, or continue, up to you! <3

fading bc I'm pretty swamped, but I'd love another thread sometime once I balance out my load LOL. thanks for the thread!

 

At Ico's words that he wished he had a name like Toad, the boy laughed with a shake of his head. Talking point, sure- but how many times had that "talking point" been someone telling him how odd, or strange his name was? Rarely was it compliments- and though he appreciated Ico's optimism, most people weren't so kind. Sure, Toad chuckled, I suppose it has given us some good minutes of conversation right here- though really, yours lead the story. A shake of his head as he smirked again, I should... probably get back to work. Catch you later, I-C-O? He joked, before waving his tail in farewell as he made off to go patrol borders, or something of the like.