When the stranger motioned for her to look at the big puddle of water, Isara was eager to go look. For a moment she almost ran to the water’s edge, but then reminded herself a second later that she still wasn’t completely certain about the stranger. So instead she slowly walked to it and gazed upon it. It was so clear and she could have sworn she saw things moving about in it. She would have asked about all the things she saw if it weren’t for the stranger talking to her that diverted her attention.
’I no wings,’ his head shook as he answered her question about him being able to fly. He then seemed to present them to her - allowing her to see them even better. ”So he can’t fly either,” she thought to herself. She had never seen wings like his, but then again she’d never had the chance to see anybody else’s wings.
’These are fins. Fins,’ Isara looked at him as he said the word more than once. Fins…she also noticed that he tapped his wing when he said the word with emphasis…was that the word for wings in his language?
”Ffffins,” the young girl repeated the word as best as she could to try out the word herself. Then she looked to her wings and tried to gesture to them while saying the word again, ”Fins,” she a bit better the second time but wasn’t aware that he had fins whereas she had wings. She looked to him to hoping she did it correctly as she heard him say more words. Swim, not fly. What exactly were those supposed to mean? She was confused for a bit before suddenly a splash in the water caught her attention and she saw a fish jump out of the water behind the stranger.
”Swima! She practically shrieked. She had heard her mother tell stories about these creatures in detail which was the only reason she knew what a fish was. Wait…swim…was that what the stranger had been talking about? That there were fish? Her eyes lit up as she watched the fish swim around in the stream.
”Swima,” she said again as she pointed as best as she could to the fish that was swimming about in the water. How much she wished she could move about with as much speed and grace as it did…one day maybe.
He shuffled sideways to allow the kit more room to walk forward, a small smile hesitantly spreading across his short muzzle as she gazed with wonder down into the stream. While she stared, the little cat took another moment to gaze up and down the forest's edge for any sign of movement. Still nothing it seemed, and he breathed a sigh of relief before joining her in watching the dark, easy currents.
The kit's words brought Delta back to attention, and his smile widened ever so slightly as she clumsily parroted back his words. He shook his head when she gestured at herself, though his expression did not darken. He flexed one of his fins again, noting with some discomfort that its thin coat was drying into a ticklish fuzz that had him struggling to not lean down and vigorously nibble away the itches.
"Fins," he repeated, tapping it again with a stubby paw; he then pointed towards the masses hanging at her sides. "Wings."
The splashing of the stream behind them interrupted the impromptu lesson, and Delta caught a flash of dark scales as his head whipped around defensively. He nearly jumped again at the kit's shriek of delight, and it took a few moments for his thoughts to catch up to his heartrate as he recognized the shape of a fish snaking through the sluggish current. It seems Delta wasn't the only creature eager to explore this seasonal break from the river, and he let out a breath of relief as he too watched its silohuette through the cool, clear water.
"Swim-ah," he finally repeated, tilting his head and moving his attention back to the kit, who was excitedly gesturing towards the fish. An idea came to him then, and Delta shuffled around to fully face the water as he lifted his paw and clumsily motioned to himself yet again. "I have fins. I swima," He gestured down to the water then, loosely following the fish's dark shape as he continued. "That fish; fish. You eat fish?"
What was the closest thing to eat in her language? The best Delta could do was gesture towards the kit again, then towards the fish, and then make a biting motion with his jaws, as if he were eating it. She had to have been hungry, right? Hadn't that been why she'd gotten so excited at the sight of it? He shuffled his paws with nervous anticipation, watching as its dark shape threatened to vanish further upstream. If he were to catch it, he'd need to be fast about it.
"Fish food. Eat food," he tried again, doing the biting and chewing pantomime again as his gaze carefully tracked the motions of his potential catch. He looked back towards the scrawny kit (Tsillah, he should probably see if she had a name or not) and hoped his message was understood. "You eat fish?"
Isara watched intently as the stranger shook his head when she repeated the word "fins." Had she messed something up? Was she wrong about what she thought the word was? He then moved one of his wings and repeated the word. Isa was about to follow suit again but found him pointing to her wings and saying one of the words she hadn’t understood earlier: wings. She tilted her head for a second as she pondered what he was trying to tell her.
Wings….in his language they were wings…but his were called fins? They were different? Her head tilted the other direction causing her ears to briefly bump each other as she thought long and hard.
”Fins,” she started slowly, the word sounding better with each time she said it, and she pointed to his fins. Then with a pause she slowly gestured to her wings and tried out the word he had said, ”Www…iii..nnggsszz.”
Afterward, she looked him to make sure she had gotten it right. Was he wanting to know her word for her wings? The girl was confused and hoping she was on the right track.
’Swim-ah,’ She heard the stranger repeat the word. She watched as he motioned to himself and then spoke about fins and fish and himself. She sat there for a little bit as she tried her best to find the correlation. ”He fish? He….fish….” She looked from him back to the fish in the stream and slowly began to notice some of the similarities between the two. His wings… looked a lot like the wings on the fish…only bigger. Was he a fish then? But as far as she knew from her mother’s stories fish only lived in the water. Was her mother wrong then?
Her thought was broken by the stranger pointing to the fish and saying a bunch of words she didn’t understand. She watched as he continued by acting out what appeared to be…biting something. Teal eyes followed as he pointed to the fish again and repeated the acting scene. Her ears twitched as she thought it over and tried to piece together the puzzle that he was presenting her. Fish…then biting…fish then biting.
”Wait…,” she did one final look at the fish swimming in the stream before looking back at the stranger hoping she was getting this right, ”Choj op swima?” She asked curiously right before her stomach gave a very audible rumble. Could she eat fish? She’d never ate them before and her mother never spoke of eating them in her stories…so she wasn’t sure. There had to be a way for her to understand him better. She wanted to learn his language since he kept saying words that she didn’t know. But how?
”Ah!” Her facial expression changed suddenly from confusion to a look that gave away that she thought of an idea. She looked towards the stranger and waited until she had his full attention.
”Flapas,” she boldly stated as she again referred to her wings as she had done earlier. He had called them “wings” so perhaps she could tell him what they were called in her language. Then she pointed to the fish again and repeated the word for it, ”Swima,” then she referred to the water and stated that word as well, ”Woda,” she looked back at the stranger hoping he caught and understood all that, otherwise she didn’t know what else to try next.
Delta smiled as she repeated him, slowly sounding the words out as she gestured between the two of them respectively. He affirmed it with a nod, strangely proud that the kit had caught on so fast. Slowly but surely it seemed that she was beginning to understand, and she looked between him and the fish with a thoughtful gaze as Delta ran the previous words she'd uttered through his head. Woda, thosti, swima,wing, those were pretty easy to understand, but they wouldn't get him far.
His thoughts were interrupted by a question from the aforementioned kit, whose attention had settled on parsing the meaning of his clumsy pantomiming. Swima meant fish, and while choj op was unfamiliar, the growling of her stomach suggested they related to eating. You eat fish? Was that the question?
"Yes!" he answered, nodding again. Was nodding something universally understood? No matter, the more pressing issue now was to catch the fish; just to be safe. The few mouthfuls of minnows he'd snagged on the swim here had sated his own hunger, but a large fish such as this could prove the perfect meal for the starving kit. He stood and stretched his stumpy legs, dark eyes focusing on the water again as he dug his claws into the gravel and wriggled his haunches in preparation to dive. Just this short time outside of the stream had left him antsy, bouncing between discomfort at the sensation of his oily pelt drying, and constant fear that he'd be eaten at any moment. He paused however, when he noticed that the kit was staring at him again with a determined expression. She repeated herself and began to point; labelling, perhaps?
Flapas, Swima, Woda. Flapas, Swima, Woda.
Fish, water...and the first was fly? Wings? The little cat blinked and hesitantly rose up from his crouch, gingerly lifting his own paw and pointing towards the kit's draping wings, then towards the fish, and then towards the stream as a whole again as he clumsily repeated her.
"Flahpaz, swima, wodah. Flapas, sweema, woda?" those were translations, then? Should he offer her his own? Again, he pointed at the items in order. "Flapas wings, swima fish, woda water," he said, half repeating it to himself just to make sure he didn't forget. He gave her a nervous smile, worry writhing in his belly at the thought that he may have been getting it wrong, but the sound of another splash jerked his attention back down to the water. The fish had jumped again, not knowing the danger of drawing such attention to itself, and was now lazily swimming off downstream. Delta couldn't afford to wait much longer, and he swiped his tongue across his muzzle as anticipation buzzed through his paws.
"Wait, please. Cho ohp swima," he said, and with a quick kick off the bank, his lithe form slipped into the water with hardly a ripple.
-- DICE ROLL: Sneak
IF SUCCEED: Delta successfully takes the fish by surprise and kills it, clumsily resurfacing from the stream and dragging it out onto the bank to drop at Isara's paws. He backs away then and gestures towards her and then the fish respectively with a sopping wet paw.
"Cho ohp swima?"
IF FAIL: Delta is too loud and too slow to catch up to the fish. Electing to not leave Isara behind to chase it for who knows how long, he swims back and pokes his head above the water, looking dejected.
Character Diceroll 1: Success Diceroll must be above 500 to be successful.
0 was added for Stealth.
551 was added for Level 5.
0 was added for A. No Enchantment.
6 was deducted for C. Vagrant Penalty.
Character Diceroll 1: Success Diceroll must be above 500 to be successful.
0 was added for Stealth.
514 was added for Level 5.
0 was added for A. No Enchantment.
1 was deducted for C. Vagrant Penalty.
The stranger smiled as she repeated him. He…smiled. Isara was so caught off guard by his smile. Nobody but her mother had given her a true genuine smile like that before. She hoped that she did things right and that he wasn’t just smiling for no reason, but either way, she began to feel a flutter of a feeling that she wasn’t familiar with. It was faint, warm, and fluttery but seemed to radiate and grow within her. She was confused about this feeling, but she was leaning towards the idea of liking it.
After she asked about eating fish, the stranger said a single word and nodded his head. She wasn’t sure what the word had been exactly, but paired with the nod of his head, she only assumed it was yes.
”Sha is yes?” The young girl thought to herself briefly before the stranger then seemed to address the words she had said earlier. Flapas was wings…swima was fish…woda was water. Isara was going to say something but before she could even gather the words to say the stranger said something about eating fish and dove into the water. Teal eyes grew wide as she watched him gracefully enter the water and move around in it.
”Em ste swima?!” She breathily exclaimed as she watched him swim about and chase after the fish. But it was shortly into his hunt that Isara remembered him stating as such…she just didn’t believe it. So did that mean his ‘wings’ were different? They weren’t wings were they…he had called them fins right? His were fins…and hers were wings. She looked to and fro between the stranger and her wings. What if she could swim? What if her’s were fins too? Maybe that was why she was so clumsy with them on land? As she debated and continued to look and compare Isara concluded that she probably wouldn’t be any less clumsy in water than she would be on land. No…his were fins…and her’s were wings.
The sound of dripping water caught her attention as she looked back at the stranger. He was coming back to shore with the fish in his mouth and before she knew it he had plopped it on the ground at her paws. She stared at it for a second then looked to the stranger as he gestured for her to eat it while also asking her to eat the fish she presumed he meant to say. Her stomach rumbled with a bit more intensity now that she had food in front of her.
Teal eyes looked down at it wondering if she really could eat it. All she had before this was just scraps of food that her captors were willing to share. Which more often than not was mostly just bones. Nervously, Isara poked at the fish as it lay there on the ground before her - jumping slightly backward after she did so in case something happened. When nothing happened she then began to sniff at the deceased creature. At first the girl noted it smelt sweet with a mix of some sort of metallic earthy tone…except it was weird. There was another element to it that Isara didn’t even know how to place or name as well but regardless her mouth began to water. Then towards the very end of her scenting the fish, she caught the faint trace scent of fresh blood.
Her heart quickened in pace as she stared down at the fish. Blood? Immediately she found herself thrown into her memories.
She was hiding in some brush like her mother had told her to do. Isara’s mother had run off long ago with the hopes of outrunning their chasers. The snap of a twig caught the young girl’s attention. For a brief moment, she felt relief as she thought it was her mother returning for her. And although it was her mother, her mother was not alone.
She had been captured.
Isara crouched as close to the ground as she could as she watched her mother be pushed around and beaten for sport until she tripped and fell. Angrily the captors yelled for her to get up, but her mother seemed either unable or refused to. It was then that the sport beating turned and eventually Isara’s mother no longer moved. The metallic iron scent of blood filled the area as the captors decided to leave. Tears cascaded down her cheeks as she waited hours before running over to her mother and begging and pleading for her to get up and move. To wake up. But no matter what little Isa tried, her mother would never wake up again and deep down even Isara knew that.
“Nomon…” Isara whined as tears began to flow down her claw-marked cheeks. She forced herself to try a bite of the fish but almost immediately following that first bite her emotions started to flood as she broke down crying. The fish was good…but she wished that her mother was here to eat it with her. Other than this stranger, she was all alone in this world…and apparently didn’t even speak the same language. She was lost and alone and knew nothing about the world and even though it excited her it also scared her to death. She just wanted her mother to be there to guide her, to teach her, and to be with her…but that was nigh impossible anymore.
It was a conflicting mixture of amusing and sad seeing the kit jump back from the fish after hesitantly prodding at it. It wasn't like the little cat couldn't understand her dilemma, he'd certainly been nervous about far sillier things in his life, but he swallowed any chuckle that may have bubbled in his throat from the relatability of it all. The poor kit was obviously distressed, and he wouldn't laugh at her for it. Instead, he lowered himself to the ground and tucked his paws beneath his body, curling his finned tail around his side and waiting patiently for the kit to approach the fish again.
Despite his relaxed body language, more to appease the kit than anything, his rounded ears twisted and turned with every rustle in the woods, and his nostrils flared consistently to catch any new scents that might carry on the breeze. Delta had never had any kits of his own, nor had he ever thought of himself as the fatherly type, but an instinctual protectiveness was flaring at his chest as he watched her slink forward and sniff the meal. He'd have to find her other wolves soon, but he could at least keep her safe for now. Well, as well as he could, anyways.
He was so preoccupied keeping watch on the undergrowth that he nearly missed the fact that the kit had stopped moving and was now staring blankly down at the fish with a lost, scared sort of expression. Delta tilted his head, fresh anxiety beginning to build as his legs tensed beneath him. Should he back away? Or get closer? He almost considered asking the kit what was wrong, but quickly remembered that it wasn't as if she'd understand him.
Quietly then, she began to cry, and the little cat's heart ached. She took a bite at least, perhaps the first in who knows how long, but any relief that would have given him was quickly overpowered by helplessness as she broke down further. He had no idea how to help or why she was so distraught, other than the pained utterance of the word nomon.
"Nomon?" he repeated. Was that a word for family? For being alone? Slowly, hoping that he wouldn't startle her, Delta uncurled his tail and stood up again. He stepped around the fish, carefully moving towards the frightened kit with a lowered head and small, cautious body language. It had been a long time since he'd seen his own mother, but he thought of her then as he hesitantly paused beside the kit and leaned forward to rasp his tongue against her tattered wing. Her feathers tasted of blood and grime, and he fought down the urge to wrinkle his muzzle in disgust.
"I-it's okay." Delta muttered, hoping he sounded more reassuring than he'd felt saying it. Gingerly he continued to try and groom the kit's slumped wing, brushing down the mussed feathers and swallowing the urge to gag at the dried ichor and grime catching in his barbed tongue.
His own mother once washed his pelt like this, sans the feathers of course. In the few times he'd seen his siblings as adults, they too had taken the time to exchange customary washes to rid themselves of any stubborn sand caught between their fins or in their fur. The little cat hoped it brought the kit some comfort, even if they were vastly different species.
Isara was lost in her sorrow as she slowly worked to consume the fish. She didn’t even hear the stranger utter her word for her mother, or she heard it but just didn’t acknowledge it. Her chocolate-and-cream-colored ears swiveled around as she heard the stranger move. At this point, however, she wasn’t worried about the stranger. He obviously wasn’t one of her captors, nor did she think he was working for them at this point. Someone trying to bring her back to that cave wouldn’t be so kind as to bring her water and fish to eat. There was no way he was affiliated with them at all.
It wasn’t until she felt him lick at her feathers that she stifled back her crying to look at him. Her eyes were filled with the experience of pain and sadness. The fact that he was licking her made her pause for a second as she processed what he was even doing. She was almost stunned by the act of kindness. Then she heard him mutter a phrase that was very much similar to one of her own. ’I-it’s okay.’ His voice rang within her ears as she muttered it back in her own language.
”Soukei?” Her voice seemed frail in this moment and when he continued to groom her she tried to hold back her tears before suddenly breaking down yet again. Only this time she practically flung herself at the stranger like a little kid would do to its parent. ”Ai mema we ai nomon! She wailed while attempting to practically bury her face into the stranger’s fur. He was the only one she could trust - the only being she knew outside of that cave - and the only being she could confide in at this point in her life. Of course, he’d be the one she turned to as she finally broke down and began to properly grieve the loss of her mother. He probably wouldn’t understand what exactly was going on, but her actions spoke louder than anything else could. She trusted him.
It was a relief at least to see the kit eating after who knows how long; whatever she couldn't manage, bones and scales or fins, Delta could swallow himself to keep any dangerous scavengers away. He paused his grooming when she turned to look at him, momentarily worried that he'd upset the kit further by the sorrow in her gaze, but she muttered something then.
''s okay?' Had she understood him? He offered a hesitant smile in hopes that it would help, and at once the kit's bawling crescendoed and she lunged forward to bury herself into his still wet fur.
The poor kit, he was half her size and biting cold from the river's chill, it probably wasn't the most comfortable sensation to hug him. Still, it seemed that he was the only one there for her, and although at first he flinched and stilled at her sudden hold, slowly he forced his fur flat and resumed awkwardly lapping his tongue across her pelt as she cried. He wished he knew her language, so he could ask her name and what had happened to her, but the best he could do now was to keep her comfortable. It certainly something he wasn't used to doing, but he could try.
"Sokay," Delta slurred, attempting to replicate how the kit had said it. He made a gurgling, strange purr in hopes that it would soothe her, but again he had no idea if it would work. He wasn't like her; he would need to find her other wolves soon, especially with winter approaching. He thought of the colorful wolf he'd seen in the saltwater cove, the one with fins and gills like him. Sure he lacked wings, but he was a wolf like her, and claimed to be part of a pack- Dusknora, if he remembered correctly. A pack that followed Tsillah and made their home in a land full of water and tall green trees not far from where the brightwood ended.
They would know how to keep a kit like her alive. With so many trees, perhaps there were even wolves there with wings like hers. How could he tell her though that she could trust such wolves? They followed the same goddess, yes, but could he even?
It wasn't like he had much choice. He decided that he would tell her later, perhaps in the morning when things were less frightening. He continued to groom the blood from her pelt and shakily purr, keeping an eye out on the tree line to make sure no predators came to investigate while the kit cried.
