a new soul to the old hell

Lykos stepped out from where he had been quietly watching, and he approached the wolf. It was... different from the language Katja spoke, but perhaps it was similar enough that she wuld understand the basic words. At the very least, he already understood a few words of this language she spoke, because she seemed to be clarifying herself in the common language. "Heil, Grohiik!" he called, voice friendly, combining the words of two languages which he knew little else of. Only three words in Norse, thanks to Katja, and... three words in this language, called... Dovahzul, apparently. The male approached strongly, his tail high, though not threateningly. Quite the opposite; he approached in a friendly way, non-threateningly, but also in a manner that bespoke that he wasn't just a mere grunt. It wasn't arrogance, but he wouldn't be submissive either. He was equal to the wolves present, at the very least; he would not cower behind them. At the same time, though, he'd not frighten the foreign wolf.

He dipped his head in greeting to the other wolves present, including his mother. This was a time when he was really glad he seemed to be able to learn languages; perhaps he could learn the language of this wolf. "The Grohiik - I may know a grohiik who may speak Dovahzul," he told the woman, kindly and surprisingly soft. If it was similar to Norse as he thought, then at the very least this woman and Katja ought to be able to speak. He was curious to hear which decision this wolf she had made; perhaps he could dissuade her if it was this Western pack.

"Speech" | Think