Roll Away Your Stone

“Aye.” He responded to her pleasantries, unwilling to drive her mad with his accent. She hadn’t quite said his name right but he supposed that was fine, truth be told he’d probably just make a mess of things if he tried to say her name. He even practiced it in his head; v-AA-l-Dis, Vae-l-dees, Va-l-Daes – Nope, couldn’t be done. Even if he could somehow outdo her linguistically he wouldn’t have held it against her, she was after all still young and he had, even through his heartbreak, retained a small soft spot for the pups he knew he would most likely never meet. He rubbed himself against one of the unusually smooth stones of the steppe as she asked what his role was- after of course, carefully omitting the less than favorable rank name she had been given. He supposed he could have held it against her, maybe taunted her with it, but for all his ugly features he was far too kind to do that. “Lookout.” He murmured in response, the word sounding strange in his accent and he supposed he could have elaborated and just said he was a weather watcher, but he didn’t feel it was necessary

This is him talking