The female explained that she was a wolf, like him, but just beaten up. Tornach nodded gravely; athair had been beaten up too then, to be so scarred as he was, and it was no stretch to imagine that was why a wolf might have no ears or tail. "I am sorry the bad wolf hurt you, a' Bhean-uasal Hróðvitnisdottir," he said sincerely, his small face very serious. "When I am big like Dadaí and Regulus I am going to make sure no bad wolves can hurt anyone anymore. I wish I was big already when he hurt you so I could stop him." It wasn't fair that she had to be handicapped without big ears to capture sound to ear better, or without a tail to balance with, just because some big wolf was mean to her.
She went on to tell him that the other creature was a mule deer, and he stared eagerly into the distance where the deer had disappeared, committing it to memory. He understood that not everyone spoke the same languages, but clearly they had a language or they wouldn't be able to speak to each other, right? They weren't rocks, which couldn't speak at all, and even plants had their own language didn't they? So could he learn to speak mule deer language? "What language do they speak? Why don't they speak any of ours?"
She lowered herself to her belly before him, drawing his bright eyes back to her form in time for her to ask questions of her own. "I look for answers," he told her honestly, seriously, and cocked his small head to the side. "Friends are nice too. I don't have any; just Mamaí and Dadaí and Regulus and Zuriel and Baine. They say I have another sister but she went away and never came back so I haven't met her, but I would be friends with her too if she wanted. Are you looking for friends, a' Bhean-uasal Hróðvitnisdottir? Is that why you looked so sad and so worried?" He paused, eyes finally focusing on the small form nestled in the fur on her head. "What is that?"
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