Old Faces Don't Mean Old Souls

He'd find himself walking slowly down to the bay, well aware that the manatees had migrated to warmer waters for the winter. Still, he hoped he might find Dada here again. He'd needed some advice on his relationship with Gwena. He was slight;y ashamed of himself for not having the strength to withstand her begging. He'd failed again, though he was more sure now than he'd ever been that he was ready to marry her. He wanted to howl it to the whole tribe, to declare loudly that she was his.
As he walked down the bank to the bay he'd find his eyes resting on not Dada, but an odd colored wolf playing in the snow. His strangeness would be a dead giveaway of his origin, and for a moment Shai would debate turning a leaving, avoiding the northern wolves like he should have with every other encounter. He just looked like he was having so much fun. It wasn't often he saw such a carefree wolf of that age. Shai's giant paws would bring him forward cautiously, eyes and ears trained on the man. He knew that it was unlikely he would speak the tribe's tongue, so a bark would be let out to make his presence known, but Shai was still rather unsure of the purpose of his interest. Curiosity mostly.


"Speaking" ; Thoughts