The End of the World

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.