It was the end of the world.
Not literally, of course. But it could have been: the sudden drop, the treacherous path, the sea to the horizon.

The very edge of the world met the embrace of the sea. The constant ebb and flow of the tides promised to eat away the land until there was nothing left, just the sandy bank.

Vibrant moonlight shone down on the shifting water, its reflection a poor facsimile of its glory in the sky. Yet, its beauty was undeniable on a night as clear as this one. The moonlight drowned much of the starlight in its brilliance, but the far blue horizon was still speckled by the little lights. On a night such as this, the cliffside all but glowed: the lack of starlight was made up for in glistening mica in the walls of the precipice, streaks of golden color as veins of solid gold reached the surface...

Kuwindwa did not regret the perilous journey down the craggy path to the shore one bit. Right now, every careful pawstep had been worth the effort.

The woman still carried the perfume of the wildflowers at the cliff's top on her coat - the stiff sea breeze couldn't carry it away yet. She was currently seated, her head lifted toward the rising moon as if she were basking in its glow. In a way she was; she prayed silently, taking in the sounds and smells of this new place, eyes closed. She took a deep breath, released it slowly, then opened her bronze eyes to gaze upon that heavenly glow once more. The look of peace on her face right at that moment was entirely foreign - but none would have a way of knowing that were the case. It was the night, the full moon, the utter loneliness here... but it wasn't a bad loneliness. Indeed, "loneliness" was perhaps a poor word for the serenity offered by the white sand and constant whispering of the tide. Her tail traced a line in the sand as she pulled it closer to her paws, completing the image of a statue.

She hadn't felt peace like this in months - it was almost like before. Before everything changed and she was alone.

The sea was as close to home as he had gotten since venturing to Alacritia. Not that home was any one particular place -- the northern tundra was his home, as was the bitter arctic sea, along with the tall mountain peaks of his youth. The air here, in the dark of night, was somewhat cool and bought him a fair bit of nostalgia. He was thankful for the waves, as they crashed loudly against the shore, bringing in a crisp wind that ruffled his fur and send chills down his spine.

With ease he trekked along the bottom of the cliffside, parallel with the ocean. His paws made wide imprints in the sand as he moved, his gait deeply relaxed as he traveled beneath the moonlight. The night-time was peaceful and he found himself slipping into a relaxed lull. The night was a welcome reprieve from the hot summer sun and briefly he found himself wandering closer to the ocean side, letting the waves lap against his paws. After some time he would let his gaze drift briefly to the sky, enjoying the glimmering of the stars and moon overhead. He couldn't help but wonder if his tribe was looking at the same moon, wherever they are, and if they thought of him often. Surely his sisters did, for he rarely went a day without thinking of them.

Only when the scent of a stranger reached his nostrils did he realize that someone lingered nearby. His crimson eyes would squint as he swung his head to the earth, searching for her in the distance. It took some time for him to find her, his paws moving a bit more quickly as he sought to close the distance between them. At a good distance away, no closer than a dozen yards, he would emit a low bark to signal his presence. Though feeling a bit tired, the possibility of meeting someone new was tempting, and his tail would wag side to side in a show of pleasure. "Good evening, miss," he'd call out to the stranger in his thick accent, his lips twisting in a grin.

Like it did for all things, time had turned the loneliness into little more than a dull ache Kuwindwa hardly deemed worthy of notice anymore. Besides, it was safer for her to be alone. It was her choice. How true that really was remained to be seen however. The loss of constancy - of surroundings, faces, comrades - could be her punishment for her lapse in judgment. But if loneliness was her punishment, what was this peace? A soft sigh escaped the woman's lips as her chin lowered and her eyes fell upon the swaying waves. Kuwindwa never wanted to let this feeling go. She had the strangest and most pup-like urge to run into the surf, dance in the tides, beckon the moon to join her...

A low bark snapped Kuwindwa from her rumination, reminding her she should be ever alert. The months she'd spent in eastern Alacritia had helped ease some of her paranoia, but she was never without caution, whether or not it seemed due. Her head turned first, followed by her rising to her paws, then slowly she turned to face the behemoth standing illuminated in the pale moonlight. It didn't require excellent night vision to see just what a giant this man was, even at this distance. He called out in words thickly accented and his tail swayed complaisantly behind him. A giant, but not a monster. Even so, old habits die hard, and there was some amount of tension in her movements, however small the indications. At least she was not directly combative for once.

"And to you, sir." She returned politely. Her tail began to sway slowly behind her as she turned to face him more directly. She could just make out the curve of a smile - or she thought it might have been, but there was something else: an oddity about his jaw? At this distance, she could not be entirely certain what she was seeing. Moving forward several paces, she kept a watchful eye for any indication she was coming too close, or that he might suddenly spring. She meant to stop at a distance that was conversational, and even began to speak: "It is a pleas-" but her words came up short, as did her step, once she got a better look at the man's face. While he was by no means an ugly creature, he sported the most bizarre features she had ever seen on the face of any wolf: a pair of curved tusks.

As she realized she was staring, Kuwindwa's eyes snapped back up, searching for his eyes instead as she tried to gauge just what sort of wolf she was dealing with. If she'd had kind words a moment ago, they were gone now, forgotten. If she fumbled for some recovery from her rudeness, it was only in her mind, and nothing but a sharp stare adorned her sharp face.

Under the pale moonlight that engulfed the beach, everything looked much more serene. The roar of the waves grew louder and then quieter in turn, the constant sound soothing despite its intensity. Though he longed for the bitter cold of the north, this was reminiscent enough of his past to keep him at peace. The company of another would only further lighten his mood -- though he found himself wondering if this woman, too, might end up being blind like two of the wolves he'd met so far. Not that there was anything wrong with that, and under the glint of the moonlight, it almost seemed like she might be..

But he was mistaken, he could quickly tell, as she moved to approach him slowly. From the gentle light above he could tell her eyes were not milky and sightless like Kalliope's and Salym's had been, but a shimmering bronze and gold, vibrant and full of life. Despite her movements, she seemed a bit hesitant, wary of his presence -- something that was not at all surprising to him. He knew he was far larger than most wolves, over a head taller than this new face in particular, and knew he could be quite intimidating at first sight.

His smile grew a bit at her greeting, though her demeanor shifted quite suddenly when she got a better look at him. Slowly his own expression would falter, a slight frown creasing his lips as she stopped mid-word to stare blankly at him. "A pleasure?" he'd questioningly finish her sentence, cocking his head to the side as he eyed her. Was she taken aback by his appearance? He could've scoffed, for he'd had this interaction one too many times here, but the night was pleasant and he'd try to remain calm even as she stared at him with a stony expression. In his own family, he'd certainly not been seen as strange; he'd been thought of as blessed, even, adorned with tusks somewhat similar to the antlers of the reindeer that fed them and gave them life. "Or is it not really a pleasure after all?"

What use was this quietude if she could not mind her manners? She was out-of-practice; the niceties she once used to appease others were all but forgotten in favor of her own safety. No, the only thing she did seem to practice was that stony glare, so much it appeared unbidden. And now? She had clearly offended him. The one time she had intended to keep her head. Whatever apologies she fumbled for in her mind were crashing too rapidly to catch - like the waves themselves. Her silence stretched longer than she would have liked after he spoke, though her eyes lowered - the only real sign of shame he would see from the she-wolf.

"No, I meant-" That made it worse! If she was only fumbling the ball before, now she'd dropped it! "-that is I-" a quick shake of her head and she seemed to collect herself a little more. After all, she was ultimately a straight-forward talker, and she had been in-the-wrong to stare: "Forgive me, I did not mean to be rude. It is far too pleasant an eve; I do not know yet, stranger, if it is a pleasure or not to meet you." More words had not been spoken in a sentence from this lady's maw in a long time, but for the briefest moment she flashed a smile - even if she visibly had to think about it beforehand. Up until this moment, her words had been somewhat dull - her entire affect was subdued - but she continued with a question and for a moment there was something foreign in her voice, a note of hopefulness: "Perhaps it will be?" She punctuated the words with a sway of her tail that might be friendly.

The woman's eyes lifted again, meeting his gaze as boldly as one loner to another might. She hoped her apology would suffice for now. She was at least somewhat curious about those protruding tusks anyway. It wasn't as if she thought them ugly; she'd been caught off-guard by them and having never seen something so clearly wolf carry around something she might've found in prey? It was odd to her. But she was determined in spite of everything else that tonight she was going to try. It was tranquil, and too often she fled from others and left any peace behind. Not tonight.

The wolves here seemed so much smaller than his own kin. He thought fondly of how he and Sabine had teased Sunniva for her height one too many times, though even she was far larger than most of the wolves he'd met here. Miten huvittunut ne olisivat nämä pienet sudet, he thought fondly to himself, a flicker of amusement dancing in his ruby red stare despite the somewhat stony expression that lingered on his hard features. Though he understood he could be intimidating in size and that he had unusual features, it was growing honestly quite irritating to be gawked at -- though at least this female tried to maintain her composure, despite stumbling over her words. Even in the darkness he could tell that he had caught her off guard, though instead of helping her he would stand and watch with a curious expression, waiting for her to regain herself. It was all he could do to not snort at her.

"It's fine," he dismissed it after a moment of consideration.  "I suppose you can determine that later. You seem pleasant," he noted conversationally. He hadn't met many wolves that he regretted meeting - and why would he? Most were decent at heart, and he was a social man, driven by companionship and adventure alike.  "And I honestly hope you think the same of me."

The smile he wore was genuine, and in a show of respect he would dip his head to the earth, his tusks dipping close to the ground along with him.  "My name is Áki, by the way," he introduced himself happily. There was no reason to deny her an introduction, even if she'd seemed initially a bit standoffish. He could be just the same, depending on his mood, but he felt fantastic tonight. The cool air and the soft glow of the moon was intoxicating, and he felt freedom pouring through his veins.  "May I ask yours?" Again his tail would wag a few times behind him as he took a tentative few steps closer.

When he seemed to accept her apology, a small surge of relief flooded the woman. Then he continued, claiming she seemed pleasant. Pleasant? The word rung in Kuwindwa's brain for a moment, but her blank façade did not crack. Not until he bowed his head. Then her brows shot up and something akin to a smile flitted across her muzzle: as before it was brief, but undeniable. She could not recall the last time someone showed her any form of respect, especially from the wolves in this land... they had a nasty habit of creeping up on her. It did nothing for her nerves!

"Áki, thank you," she didn't expand on what her thanks was for (though in her mind it was for that simple show and respectful nature of his words). Her peace would not flee so quickly tonight, and for that she could be glad! "I am called Kuwindwa." In her turn she bowed her head, mirroring his earlier movement almost perfectly before rising with her forepaws together.

She used to be a warrior, a guardian. She may not have looked like much now, but he reminded her she used to be worth the respect. Now? She couldn't always be certain. She had, after all, failed. Even so, it was nice to pretend for just a moment that she was still Wawindaji, a respected and strong wolf who did her duty with great pride. She could pretend the moonlight still shone on her in the forests of home, that the waves were the whisper of the wind through the trees... but her eyes took in her surroundings and she remembered who she was now: Kuwindwa, a loner with no name, no pride, and barely a prayer for the future.

"You speak with an accent. You are not from this land either, are you?" Kuwindwa enquired. It might have seemed a strange question, and an obvious one, but she did not know how much the speaking patterns might vary among the wolves of Alacritia yet. Oddly enough, his accent also helped put her at ease: he did not speak like the people of her land and therefore she was less inclined to believe he was sent after her...

Sure, she was pleasant -- though she seemed a bit cold at first meeting, which Áki understood as he could be a bit standoffish himself. Though he and his family had always been social at the core, normally eager to meet new wolves and to learn all they could about the world. Perhaps some were just not nearly so outgoing? The stranger seemed to give in to his respectful bow, and he found his grin widening at the small smile that danced over her pretty features. "Well, I'm happy to meet you, Kuwindwa," he told her, his deep voice genuine.

She would ask if he was from this land, implying she was not either. A low nod would be offered, reminiscent of the bow he'd given prior, though considerably less pronounced. "I'm not," he explained with a grin, letting his head bob for a moment as he gazed at her. "I'm from the north. Far, far north," came his playful explanation. He'd been growing far more fond of the wolves in this land that he'd anticipated -- to the point where he'd been making promises to return to them. He was entirely used to such obligations, and he found himself wondering if he'd soon regret making them at all. The only one he'd ever had any loyalty was were his family, his sisters in particular, and even then they had stayed together out of want, not obligation. "And you aren't either?" She'd asked if he wasn't from this land either, making him deduce she wasn't either, but he'd ask for the sake of conversation. Briefly his gaze would dart away from her, turning to face the ocean, to watch the waves in the distance crash unforgivingly against the shoreline.

His answer confirmed what was already heavily implied, prompting a small nod from the woman. It was followed by a grin. The expression still seemed odd when made around those protruding tusks, but even so it was clearly genuine. She wondered vaguely how it was he spoke around those strange teeth? He would turn the question back to her however, and that gave Kuwindwa pause. Her first habit was to dodge questions; she had become very skillful at evading personal identifying information, but she would try. Tonight, she would try. So she hesitated, but when she answered it was in an agreeable way, still blunted in her usual manner but not unkind:

"Yes, I come from-" she paused thoughtfully, considering how far her journey had taken her, how lost she might be, "-not far enough away." The stone face cracked again, a smile almost breaking through again. If the barest effort at humor would help deflect the way her heart ached, then so be it. Still, something in the flicker of expression was off, and she tilted her head just the slightest bit gaze back to the moon as if it might give her some small piece of advice. The next time she spoke, only her eyes moved, flicking to Áki so she could just see him in the corner of her vision. "I do not believe even the end of the world will be far enough," she said with a motion of her tail to indicate the sea - her "end of the world."

Kuwindwa swung her muzzle back to the giant; she was more than just a little rusty at making conversation. She had never been very good at small talk even before she had wandered alone. But she was making an effort here. "There is nothing like this where I came from: it was all forests... the musty scent of pine, the whispering of wind through leaves in the summer, the deer plentiful..." She had to stop. Her chest clenched painfully. Only her eyes changed as she described her home: the living wolf that hid behind the dying shell appeared briefly as she spoke before being smothered again behind a mask. "I have never seen so much water in one place."

His tusks had never really been a topic of conversation among his tribe. It was nothing other than a trait he'd been born with, much like his sister's blindness, or Sunniva's slightly smaller stature. If anything, it only reaffirmed what they'd been taught about the gods and goddesses and their connection to the spiritual realm. Still, he was observant and he knew he'd never seen another with such a trait, so he knew it was atypical. Her initial wary response to him was not that surprising, though the bold male was unused to such hesitation when presented with something new. She seemed to soften as he showed he meant no harm to her, and his movements were slow and deliberate as he took a few steps closer, putting them at a distance much more suitable for conversing.

He found himself grinning again at her words. It sounded like she'd left her homeland intentionally, and sounded as though she wanted to be further from home than she already was. A low chuckle escaped his parted jaws at the notion. He wouldn't necessarily imply that he himself wished to be further from home, for home meant family, and family meant everything to him. It was difficult to imagine things being different, though perhaps she was even more independent than he. Still, her words made him think, an inquisitive look cast to her -- and then to the sea again -- as he considered her musings. "Do you think the world has an actual end?" he'd ask, feeling philosophical as he wondered about the deeper meaning of her words. "I mean, you can keep running forever -- but even in death, do you think there is really any sort of end?" And it certainly sounded like she was implying she was being chased by something, that she was trying to escape something from her past... though he dared not pry. And he was unsure where she stood in such spiritual talks, and so he would clear his throat and continue on.

"Your home sounds a bit like my own," he explained with a slow nod. His existence had been characterized by the tall pine forests of the north, of the vast tundras where they would follow reindeer as they migrated during the melting of snow in the spring... it had felt strange to be away from those lands this year, for the first time in his life he had not followed the custom of his tribe. "Though when I think of my home, I think of reindeer,"  he'd crack a smile again at the nostalgia. The relationship the Jarvela clan had shared with the reindeer had not been one of predator and prey, but one of interdependence and coexistence. Things were so much different here... "I am not so used to this sort of coast, either. The beaches in the north are far different than this one."

He stepped closer, and she did not move back though her weight shifted slightly, one forepaw moving momentarily as if she might retreat before she lifted it and drew it forward, moving a few steps forward to meet him half-way. He smiled at what she had said - maybe she wasn't quite as rusty at pleasant talk as she believed herself to be. Still, even tonight Kuwindwa remained a little hesitant, all too aware she would move on again. Her heart had taken too heavy a blow and it healed into stone. Tonight was the first time in a long time she felt even a fraction of something. The tranquility helped remind her she had once lived for nights like this among her comrades.

"Do you think the world has an actual end?" Áki would ask, prompting a soft, thoughtful hmm from Kuwindwa. She did not respond immediately, preferring to let him finish on more pleasant notes about a home that might have been so very like Kuwindwa's own... although, she wasn't sure what a "reindeer" was. She would ask - though not just yet. No, she was interested in his more philosophical musing. Kuwindwa looked again to the sea, long enough to watch the surf break a few times before shifting her weight a second time, this time to face the ocean and the moonlight. This might be a pleasant meeting after all.

"I never thought about it very deeply until I came to this land... but there is seldom time for deep thinking," she said, her voice softening as she glanced at the red-marked man. There had been times she thought she would die; she would have let herself slip away deliberately into nothing. But something always spurred her on. Was it fear of death? That there would be nothing after all? Or maybe it was the opposite: she was afraid it would continue, unending? "When we are happy, we easily disregard what may be. I have lived 'in the moment' too long to-" Kuwindwa stopped abruptly as a thought seemed to strike her. Really she only wondered that she was speaking so easily. "...well. Surely it all must end one day," she decided, but she didn't seem certain. The glance she sent Áki's way was thoughtful, questioning. "The Pack would have laughed at such thinking. We- they were very pragmatic. There was no room for questions and thoughts like this. Was it like that where you were from, in the North?"

Kuwindwa was surprised at herself for speaking so freely. But he had asked the right question, in the right place, at the right time. She could never know it consciously, but a deep part of the wanderer craved a conversation with another wolf just like the one she was having now with Áki. Not just this subject and conversation, but any conversation. She was alone by choice, but that did not make it her nature to be alone and utterly isolated. It was a wonder she hadn't developed any more madness than her deeply shaken faith in others and the paranoia that often drove her to flee.

Ah, what a relaxing evening. The cool summer evening was refreshing, breathing life into his bones, making him itch for adventure. And yet meeting a lovely lady could be just as exhilarating as exploring some unfamiliar territory, and he didn't regret stopping to talk to her at all. He was a man who lived without regrets, who wanted to know all those who crossed his path -- for he knew all things were interconnected on a deep level, and who was to say that it wasn't meant for them to meet? Who was he to deny the universe such an opportunity? Still he grinned, pleased at her presence, and even more pleased as her posture loosened and she began to speak more freely.

"Seldom time for deep thinking?" he'd ask, sounding a bit surprised at such a notion. Though he was unused to a life of leisure, like some of the pack wolves in these lands seemed to live, even through the hardest times there was always time for thought and discussion amongst his kin.  "It seems you must have lived a far different life than I, Kuwindwa," he'd comment with a smile, a mere fact, though an interesting one.  "I find it strange to imagine things ever really ending," he would muse thoughtfully. His demeanor had relaxed significantly, and slowly he would drop to his haunches, content to sit and chat for as long as she kept his attention. Was there a disconnect between living 'in the moment,' as she said, and wondering what lay beyond, in the unknown future? The two didn't strike him as mutually exclusive. Again he felt his mind wandering as he considered her words, finding far more interest in their conversation than he'd initially expected.

She made a reference to some pack, likely one she'd been part of?  "Not at all," he answered her question. Though his own kin seemed quite different, he had no room to judge, and his words were thoughtful rather than accusing.  "We were always encouraged to ask those questions. My kin are very spiritual," Áki would comment carefully.  "And very connected with nature. I don't know how we would have survived without an ideology to guide us through the winters we went without food for many moons." Though he was a wanderer by nature, he'd spent most of his life in the far north, in the desolate arctic tundra, living amongst like-minded tribes. He hadn't spoken much about such things with wolves outside of his family, and he found himself thrilled at the possibility of such a talk, though he didn't know if such a conversation even interested her.

Unfortunately the more philosophical thoughts and questioning were brushed aside in favor of hard training... at least after her family pack had been absorbed. Now it was survival that consumed her time and thoughts. She was exhausted, dead spiritually and emotionally. She was something dead trying to pretend to be alive. Did she succeed?

As Áki spoke, Kuwindwa's gaze did not waver from him. She drank in his words, considered them. To say she was eager was perhaps too strong a word, but she was interested, and that much showed in the way she watched, ears perked. Also, his accent was quite thick and while she could understand him, there were times she had to make sure she'd heard him correctly. What he described at first sounded simple, but then he mentioned how they survived for so long in a harsh winter. Something in the back of her mind sparked, and for a moment the woman's brows furrowed, a question forming in her mind, nearly reaching her tongue, but never quite leaving: How?

It was a simple question, one that made her feel like a child... At first she felt a blow to her pride, then realized something: she still didn't know everything. And that wasn't bad. The spark in her mind became the light of curiosity in her eyes as she listened.

Were it that she could be that way - "deeply spiritual" - Kuwindwa felt a small connection to something, somewhere, but that something had no name or place. Maybe it was only her wishful thinking. Even her family had no spiritual practices, only their warrior's code. It shamed Kuwindwa to think she could scarcely follow it anymore. She did try though. Aside from the constant moving, it was the only other constant in her life beyond the loneliness.

"How?" The woman voiced at last. She clarified briefly: "How does something like that help you?" She didn't sound condescending - she was genuinely curious. If she was rude, she didn't realize... But she scrutinized him as closely as ever, trying to understand how something spiritual (and therefore to her as far from physical as it could be) could help survive a hard winter. "I imagine the winters are far harsher than they are here... the prey scarcer. Was there a... a code?" Was there some trick or quirk to hunting his people had learned to survive? Or were they all like Áki, with tusks? And enormous?

Was life even worth living if one did not have time for thought? Truthfully, it was a strange thought to him, for they had always had time for philosophical thought and debate even in the hardest of times. His eyes were bright as he studied her, wondering -- she seemed quite sharp, and though she looked very much like a loner rather than a pack wolf, clearly she had survived thus far. But did she continue on, without any purpose? Without any reason, without knowing why she was here, or how everything had come to be? It was hard for him to imagine not thanking rana nietjta for the end of winter, to not think of her with deep gratitude each time he saw the first rays of sun creeping over the horizon in the morning.

His expression mirrored her own interested one, finding delight in their conversation. "How would it not help me?" he'd reply, more a rhetorical question than anything. "How can one truly live unless they understand their place in the world?" Perhaps they could survive, but simply surviving was much different than honest living. His brows would furrow as he considered how he might explained this to her, for she seemed interested. The moment of silence was slightly drawn out as he fell quiet, listening to the roaring of the waves as they crashed against the shoreline.

"Let me ask you this," he'd begin slowly. "What is your relationship with the food that is available to you? The deer, the birds, the rabbits? " his question was a curious one as he probed slightly, wondering how she might reply, unless she found the question entirely stupid. "Do they exist to feed you, or do we owe our existence to them? Or perhaps a bit of both?" Still, his questions were mostly rhetorical, a means for discussion if she chose to continue it. The brute would shrug his shoulders, finding the words difficult to come up with. Though he spoke this tongue easily, it was not his native tongue and he spoke more carefully when confronted with things so different than typical small talk that he was accustomed to.

"My family mostly lived by following the migration of reindeer herds, and picking off the weaker and crippled animals," he'd explain, gauging her for a reaction. Her home was likely as unfamiliar to him as his was to her, and she wondered if she might find this lifestyle strange. "It is difficult to find the words to explain, but spirituality has been engrained in me since birth. For me, everything is connected. See that tree over there?" He'd gesture in the far distance, toward no particular tree, with his tusked muzzle. "That tree has as much life as you or I do. Just different sort of life. I suppose that is why it is difficult for me to imagine anything having much of an end," he'd explain as he gained traction with his thoughts and struggled to express them in coherent words. "For life just seems.. so infinite. I do not believe in death of spirit, only death of body," he'd grin then, a lighthearted chuckle leaving his lips. "Perhaps someday I might be a bird, soaring through the sky, or a thousand grains of sand lying upon this very beach. I suppose this is the code I live by, Kuwindwa, and why this end of the world seems so hard for me to imagine."

Her code had directed her. Her purpose had been to protect. But what was there to protect now? She wasn't even protecting her innocence: she had fled, knowing confrontation would fail. What was her purpose if she could no longer defend those she loved, cared for, honored? What was the point of her? Those were questions Kuwindwa faced everyday. Everyday was the same: she had no answer, and her wandering had become more and more aimless... though she'd found a certain fondness for this area, she knew to linger could eventually spell further chaos. Not just for herself, but for others also. Unable to pinpoint her purpose, she made a simple goal: survive. But that could not power her forever. Death was inevitable... not just in the physical sense.

Kuwindwa hungered for an answer, and Áki fed her. His response was more than adequate... but what would she do with the information presented to her? She was learning about a new perspective, and she found it beautiful. The idea of something being infinite - eternal - was difficult for her to accept fully, but she felt a certain draw toward it... she remained silent for the duration of his explanation, allowing him to present his questions and direct the flow of his own speech. Her gaze followed his, then returned to him. She could sense the depth of his belief, his spirit burned passionately within those red eyes - if that was not too strong a word - that she had not encountered here before. Her gaze broke from the man at last, slipping to the horizon where the water reflected the moon's light. For the first time in several months, a smile formed on Kuwindwa's face that stayed for more than a passing second. It was small, but indisputable.

"Beautiful." The woman broke her silence at last, but did not continue immediately or expand on her comment. She pondered over how much to say - how much to share - after Áki had chosen to dispense with so much information about a life that had been so different from hers. When at last she spoke, her eyes remained on the horizon, lost in images only she could see: "My people were warriors. Guardians. We did not train for glory or battle... we were raised to defend the helpless, uphold the righteous. We were honorable." She stopped there, seemingly pulled from some memory. We were honorable... Her smile faded. The Pack had invaded, overtaken, absorbed... it hadn't merely been acculturation. Kuwindwa's family had been forced to change. Perhaps they were lucky not to have been killed outright... and though Kuwindwa had fought to maintain what she believed was an honorable way of life, it was difficult when all that defined that culture had died, and she hadn't all of the knowledge she felt she should.

Bronze eyes turned back to Áki. She hadn't connected with anyone on any level for so long. This was unforeseen, but not unwelcome. To think, any other night she may have simply walked away. "We were taught respect. Life is precious, should not be wasted. The life of our prey is sacrificed that we might live as wolves. We are not the same, but we are joined, hunter and hunted. We live and we die... we never imagined to what end, exactly. At least, I was taught as much," here she hesitated, her gaze leaving the man beside her as it trailed to her paws, then the ebbing surf, "My experience was - is - incomplete." Did she really just admit that? There had been no handy-dandy manual for life as a lone wolf.

As they spoke, he began to move slightly, daring to step a bit closer to the water -- and Kuwindwa herself. He was reminded of the nights he spent lying awake with Sunniva and Sabine, talking about what sort of things they might become someday. Perhaps they might become reindeer, the very creatures that gave them life, and they might someday become the hunted instead of the hunters. Perhaps Sabine might someday have the eyes of the hawk, and be able to see farther than he could ever imagine. He missed them both, quite deeply, and the memories made him long to see them again.

'Beautiful,' was her initial response, and his grinned widened into in almost playful expression of joy. Simply to be able to speak about his own beliefs and what drove him forward brought a sort of passionate excitement, for Kuwindwa's interest was genuine and undeniable. The silence followed for a moment as she drank in what he had offered. It was all he had ever known, and all he might ever know - though he thirsted for knowledge of lands far and wide, and was driven by the relentless search for more, what he had explained to her was something engrained in him, something that would never change. She explained a bit about her own background, that her pack had been upholders of justice. Fighters who defended the weak. This was strange to him. Were the weak not meant to die out? He himself had only been taught to survive, and those who could not would simply die. "Honorable," he'd echo with another small smile. "Do you not think the weak ought to learn to defend themselves? As my parents would tell us, oma apu paras apu --your own help is the best sort of help." His inquiry was genuine and not at all combative. Being honorable, and selfless, was not a trait he'd ever had. But she seemed to share his own values of the preciousness of life, which elicited a short wag of his bushy tail.

"You explain it more nicely than I could," he chuckled. His words had briefly grown more excited and he found himself resisting the urge to slip back into the language he'd been taught at birth. "What do you mean, though - incomplete?" His head would cock to the side as he began to pace a bit further, beckoning her to join him as the water lapped at his paws, though he maintained a solid hearing distance from her. "What is missing?"

No manual for this life, or a next life... her training somehow felt cut short. She was strong; she had learned well. She knew animal tracks and signs. She knew how to hold her own against bigger, stronger wolves and slighter, faster animals. But the why of it all seemed tragically left out. She was taught to protect and defend, to use her strength to bolster those who needed it. She did not despise doing these things. But there was no deity, just some connection... granted, she didn't discount it because of the lack of some greater power.

The shifting sand prompted her to turn her gaze back to Áki properly, her bronze eyes refocusing into their usual sharp, searching expression.

"Do you not think the weak ought to learn to defend themselves?" Another brief smile flashed - she enjoyed the question, the talking. More than she thought she might. Had she really missed it so much?

"Oh yes, I do. Those who are capable were expected to learn. They were expected to do the very best, if not be the best." Kuwindwa paused. She had been high-ranking once. She had been very good... at least in her old pack. "But the old? The young? The maimed? We cared for them as well, and gave them whatever respect they were due. We gave to those who were in need if we could."

There was a brief hesitation before Kuwindwa continued. She did not think she would feel relief speaking to anyone - never mind someone who was still barely more than a stranger - but a part of her yet yearned to tell more. To learn more. But a small part of her old pride remained, and a little shame caused her discomfort... she shifted her weight, then seated herself. "Incomplete... hmm. Perhaps I use the wrong word. My parents taught me everything they could - everything they knew. But we lacked that.. that spirituality. That history and- and purpose. We are given names, and tasks, but when the pack dissolves, we are left empty and meaningless... nothing. As if we could derive so complete a meaning from a name-" Until now, her words had become a little more passionate, though not loud. They were perhaps bitter and confused, but not angry. Still... she had said too much. So she stopped, seemingly suddenly.

She'd struck too close to her own heartsong, plucking brittle strings that nearly shattered. She rebuilt the walls in her mind and heart, her demeanor - while not unkind - slipped back into the cooler façade she was so used to as her defense. One might never have realized she had been opening up until that moment...

Her eyes lowered and she gave her head a small shake, perhaps giving herself away. "Forgive me," she would finish, her voice hollow. She didn't specify what she might need forgiveness for, but her mouth moved for just a moment as if she would say more... only she couldn't find the right words, and ultimately she was silent again. Maybe it was because it was a beautiful night, and under the full moon she had also felt, for just a moment, she was whole. She didn't want to bring down the mood. But she could already feel a certain edge returning at the breach of this subject... and at her own prompting. No one to blame but herself.

He couldn't help but wonder if his sisters would appreciate Kuwindwa's presence as much as he did. Those twins were just as friendly as he, though considerably more combative and fiery than himself. The recollection of his kin brought a smile to his lips, though the expression could've been attributed just as easily to the conversation he held with his new acquaintance. At the very least, they would find the conversation interesting -- things here seemed greatly different than their life in the far north.

The brute watched with interest as she faltered. There seemed to be something their conversation had brought about in her; a sort of sadness, or longing, that seemed misplaced. Their cultures had been vastly different, illustrated in the way they spoke of their pasts, but still he found himself wondering. Initially it had sounded strange to him that her pack had cared for the weak, for it seemed useless to survive if one could not do it on their own, but he also knew he would not leave his sisters to die if they needed his care. He considered this, tilting his head thoughtfully.

"I can understand how that might feel incomplete," he admitted after musing over his words for a moment longer. "Though I can also how one might see that my upbringing was incomplete in a different way. We were taught to be self-interested and to value survival above all other things. If a child was weak, they would be left behind to either die or catch up to us if they proved to be strong enough. He would shrug slowly. "We certainly lacked the cohesion that keeps most wolves going. I guess I am different from you in that sense." Kuwindwa seemed to derive purpose from her relationship with others, with the bond she had shared while in a pack, while he could only imagine such an arrangement stifling his freedom and being deeply burdensome. "What sort of name do you speak of? Your pack's name?" In some ways, he could relate to her bond with a name -- though still, he was Aki before he was Jarvela, as strongly as he connected with his kin. His ears twitched where they stood, perked attentively atop his skull, wondering why her demeanor had shifted so suddenly as she turned away from him.

He had an overwhelming urge to embrace her; he'd always been a rather touchy man, certainly not a romantic but definitely one who was not afraid of physical connection -- it was a perfect way to relate to others. But she'd seemed so standoffish initially, and the sudden shift in her attention confused him a bit. It seemed more likely that she would flinch away from the touch of a near-stranger than anything else and so he would keep his distance, though his gaze had softened slightly. "There is nothing to forgive," he said dismissively, shrugging his massive shoulders again. Had they touched on a subject that upset her? Either way, he was content to ignore it and move on to something more light-hearted if she wished.