wc:373
As the old man spoke in the old Spanish tongue, Ehno’s own thoughts were thrust into the past. He recalled with great clarity the time he spent on the ship with the sailors from Santander as they made their way across the vast blue blanket of the Atlantic. He had fond memories of the time he spent with that wild crew, sailing swiftly through good weather and adeptly maneuvering their way out of storms. The time spent on that sturdy, wooden vessel was almost certainly Ehno’s favorite part of his journey. The mixture of the sea, fulfilling work, and good company had been perfect for the young, adventuring Italian. It was perhaps the best note there was for his year of adventuring to finish up on.
His new acquaintance went on to speak of a linguist with the knowledge of many languages. Ehno wondered how interesting it would be to master a large number of languages. The Marino had had a keen interest in other languages ever since Bruno had taught him and his siblings English when they were young pups, but he was unsure how well he would be able to manage it now. He was getting along just fine with his mastery of Italian and English, and the somewhat fading grasp he held over Spanish. He wasn’t quite sure what he would do with another language around these parts, anyway.
At the old man’s question, Ehno paused to think for a moment. He couldn’t recall meeting too many souls around here that spoke much more than English. He shook his head. “Aside from my family, I can’t say I’ve met too many people in these parts that know much more than English. My, ah, friend—“ Really, what could he call Naniko? “—did know Italian and French, if I remember correctly. I suppose it’s possible that there are others out here that know more.” The question made Ehno go back to the earlier assumption he had made that this man was new to the lands. Surely if he had been here for a fair amount of time, he would have noted the residents’ lack of linguistic expertise. “I take it you haven’t been in the area for too long, then?”