Colors of the Wind

Anything was a big word with infinite possibilities. If these wolves could bring harm to the Tahtla, they could also bring good to the tribe. That was a possibility, was it not? Why were they both looking on the negative side of this situations if there was a slight chance there could be harmony between the two cultures? Instead of violence, there could be peace within them. They could trade, share training lessons and attend meetings together. How great would that be? It would surely deliver benefits.


And yet that may not be the case. It could be opposite that she feared of becoming reality. She just had to hold her breath and hope for the best.

She let a sigh as she seated herself on her haunches, her hazel eyes looking up to the faint blue sky thickly dusted with grey clouds. Her gaze soon met the other female's optics.


"Mo ti o kan lero awọn ẹya jẹ nigbagbogbo ailewu." She softly wished, hoping any ancestral being heard her call.

Translations:

"I just hope the tribe is always safe."

"Speech,"