He'd traced this path only a few times before, but it was etched into his memory brightly, for it was the path that led to his sometimes mate and his only pups. That he had pups! Such a thought had never before arisen, but now there were three, and all were his mimicry. Such a wonder, that two beings can make more, and those so alike their parents and yet so different. Each unique and wonderful.
His wanderings having brought him back near to the Sententia pack, Nimhglas had decided to take a visit. So he trotted through the grasslands directly below the mountain peaks, headed for where he knew there were caves that held those related to him. What events would unfold, he did not know, but he anticipated them gladly. Perhaps his pups would be speaking now, and have words to say that he could witness.
Nestled in among the flowers, Wailawa stared at a bug on one of the petals with rapt attention. He examined every facet of its brilliant color, and the way it moved, ingraining it into his memory. Then he ate it. It tasted kind of tangy. He ingrained that too. Except now he couldn't remember what color it was. Darn. Well, he could try again with the next bug, and the next. He had to practice if he ever wanted to learn how to remember things.
It was very important, afterall, to collect information for the pack and then bring it back. Mama was always saying that they should gather news, stories, and other stuff and bring it back and share it with the group. Except he was poorly suited to such a task. Even the smallest bit of info slipped out of his mind like it was greased. Maybe it was because he was young, and would get better with age. That was an encouraging thought.
Making his way through the terrain, Nimhglas' eyes caught a spark of blue among the flowers, and paused to examine it. He thought nothing of seeing green among green, and yellow there was aplenty from the petals. But the traces of blue stood out, and soon his eyes had picked out the small figure in the brush. One of his sons, then, the stripes gave him away. And the blue he got from his mother.
Grinning wolfishly, he hunched as low as his hyena legs would allow, and began stalking his offspring. It turned out to be very easy, as the pup wasn't paying much attention. He swung around behind him, and crept up carefully on silent paws. He tested to see how close he could get, and kept pushing, until he found himself standing directly over the pup and still no reaction. Finally he just licked the boy.
Searching the surrounding foliage for other bugs, Wailawa was suddenly distracted by a shadow falling over him. He stared at the shadow curiously, not sure what to make of it. A cloud overcasting, maybe? It didn't even occur to him to look up at what caused it; his innocent mind tended to have difficulty with cause and effect relationships. So he was completely taken off guard by the lick, and collapsed with a squeal of shock.
Flailing, he shouted "Nooo, don't eat me!" and fell onto his back, trying to shield himself with his paws. But when no further attack came, he peered up at the looming figure. A hyena! One he'd never seen before, though the color and markings looked immediately familiar. He stared wide eyed in amazement. Slowly his mind caught up with him, and he blurted out in shock, "You look like my brother and sister!"
Laughing, Nimhglas stepped back to give the pup room to freak out, and was pleased that he recovered quickly. A good sign, he felt. "Yes, you and they, mimicries in shape and form of the predecessor," he replied in his usual singsong manner, the words falling wherever they wanted to with him unable to control it. "We are branded together with shape and color, for this one is the first, and you second."
He shook his head. He knew his manner of speech was difficult for others to understand at the best of times, and for a pup it might be impossible. He carefully tried again, taking it slowly. "In the beginning, there was your mother, Loko o Ka Seen. Unto her came the green one of the marshes, which is this one. And joy became pups, which is you. This one is Nimhglas, who is your father. Hello."
Wriggling back to his feet, Wailawa stared up at the green form, and listened hard to the strange words, trying to understand them. He always had trouble with understanding adults, even when they spoke plainly. This was completely incomprehensible. And yet, it sounded like a story or rhyme, and put strange images in his head, like it almost meant something, if only he could grasp it.
He started at the name of his mother. This guy knew his mother! And at the word father, it came all together in his mind, and he gasped. Father! That's what the lines meant! His sister and brother had those lines all over him, and he think he did too, though he couldn't remember at the moment. And he'd seen that color green before... on himself! "You're my father!" he blurted, and yipped excitedly. He was meeting his father at last!
Amused, Nimhglas nodded at the blunt statement. My, what a clear and direct child he'd made. It must come from the mother's side ... he remembered her father being very to the point, and grumpy as well. "Yes, the father," he agreed. "Who comes this way to see his kin, and he sees the yellow and blue before him, so blending well into his atmosphere. Well met, child mine, among the flowers."
Judging that the boy wasn't about to run in terror, he came forward to give a dutiful examination, sniffing and nuzzling the little one's fur. Yes, definitely Loko o Ka's offspring, and grandfather Kafil's mark was there too. Well fed and tended too, which pleased him. He licked him a few times affectionately, adding his own scent to the mix. "What is the little one's name and its meaning?"
Wailawa giggled at the licking, and stood still so his newfound father could do so. He was thoroughly elated. He'd set out this morning to find information to bring back to the pack, maybe something simple like what bugs tasted like, and instead he had made this miraculous discovery! He sniffled back in return, and noticed many strange scents, that whispered of far off places, and the mysterious stories that grew there.
"I am Wailawa," he answered dutifully. "It means... it means," he racked his brain, trying to remember what mama had told him. "I forget. Somethin' about my colors, how they all run together, like paint." He happily licked the giant muzzle back, feeling an instant affection for this new person in his life. "Your colors are pretty too. Your name is... you said it's Namlass? What's that mean?"
"Wailawa," Nimhglas mused, tasting the name across his tongue. He approved of it... it had an appealing balance to the symmetry of the syllables, that reminded him of the mother's name. "Little pup Wailawa, who means the running of paint. It is Nimhglas," he exaggerated the pronunciation to make it easier for the pup. "It means green and poison, it is mentioning of the place of birth, where dark waters ran bitter."
Well, now that he'd met his son, it seemed like the right time to get some bonding in. He didn't have long, afterall... he'd surely wander off after a few days, as was his custom, so if he wanted to enjoy time with his son, it needed to be now. "What games does Wailawa play? Come, we will play together. Does he tag?" With that, he bumped the pup with his nose, then bolted across the grass, enticing a chase.
Wailawa was fascinated as his imagination filled with visions of green poison waters, somewhere far away, where his father had been born. What a strange, amazing place that must be. He didn't know anything about it, and yet he was conjuring up images of a magical, mysterious place of lush greenery, with water that rippled like the rippling lines on his father's pelt.
Surprised by the sudden change of plans, Wailawa fell over himself trying to catch up, and after a brief stall, bounded off after his father, yelping gleefully. Of course he tagged! Who didn't? He hopped over clumps of grass, having to leap his own height to clear them. He would have a difficult time trying to catch up, but his enthusiasm was well in it. "Gonna getcha, get back here papa!" he hollered.
Noticing the trouble his son was having, Nimhglas circled back and paced small circles around the hopping figure. Hm, not that great at tag it seemed, a little too small for it in this foliage. He should try a different game, then. Coming back, he tagged his son rather than being tagged, then made silly chirping sounds, mimicking a bird, doing so rather poorly and off key, but still with cheerful notes.
"Does the little Wailawa painted know the game of pretending to be many beasts?" he asked, and pretended to hop along, clicking like an insect, then braying suddenly like a zebra, and kicking out his legs as if having mighty hooves. Doing so brought back fond memories. He'd played this very game with the pup's mother, on the day they'd met. She'd taken to it fondly, if he remembered correct.
Puzzled by the change in plans, Wailawa still dropped the game of tag flat without a second thought, and grinned eagerly as he watched his father prance around. He wasn't sure which animals he was pretending to be, but he knew this game too. He'd played it many a time, and though he wasn't the greatest at hopping from one animal to another, he could really get into the mindset of the animals.
Arching up stiffly, he strutted with legs stiff and head cocked back, bobbing it occasionally, eyes fixed forward. Then he reached around and tried to peck at himself, and hunched his shoulders as if shifting a pair of wings. He'd studied cranes and waterbirds enough to know how to be one, though honestly if pressed he couldn't even firmly say what color they were. Throwing his head back, he crooned a long warble.
Watching his son play along, Nimhglas was impressed at the astute mimicry. That took alot of concentration, study of the animal, and willingness to lose onesself to the performance. He'd seen similar movements on esteemed pack elders during ritual. Here he'd been trying to just play a silly children's game, only to find that his son was interested in more dedicated play. Well, that was just fine too.
Closing his eyes and taking a long breath, he crouched low, straining his joints to bend as much as they could, which wasn't much on a hyena. He ducked his head and stared pointedly as his son, and rumbled low in his chest, flicking his tail back and forth erratically. He moved slowly and very smoothly forward, then freezing in place, with only his ears twitching. Then he let out a low growl, but without moving a single muscle.
Head swiveling at the sound of the growl, it took a long moment for Wailawa to figure out what was happening. His first instinct was to react like a bird and fly, and then had to fight down that instinct. But then he realized that his first impulse had been what was expected. His father was pretending to stalk him, and he was supposed to pretend to be stalked, and react like the bird he was playing.
He felt a real thrill at this. He was being stalked! It was almost scary. Cawwing in surprise, he hopped about and leapt onto his hind paws, waggling his front ones as if trying to fly away. He was a little too deep into the headspace of the bird, though... he couldn't actually fly, and only fell down again. Disappointed in himself, he smiled apologetically at his father. "I'm getting better at it."
Chuckling, Nimhglas pounced on top of his son and play nipped him, then snuggled up against him tenderly. "The painted does improve, yes, and will do more so in times to come. With every moon brings new times to try, and maybe even one day, Wailawa will fly." He had bonded with this little creature instantly, and now his heart beat only with strong affection for his dear son.
Standing again, he nudged the pup forward. "Come, child mine, who blends with the grass and flowers. Come, stork child. We will go up the hill to the place of caves in rock, and we will tell many things to the ones who are there. Stories, they weave, and we will weave with them, for this one always has a new thread, and shares it gladly with you." With long agile steps, he led the way to his estranged family's home, to see Loko o Ka and his other kin.
