Like Another Hole in the Head
#4
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The white-winged bird Valrian took to the nearest treetop when his mistress stumbled. His unhelpful chatter did not aide the situation, and Festivity found herself lacking comprehension for a moment or two. Between tripping over someone and then not receiving the reply she expected to hear, reality took its time sinking in. "Oh," she said, scrambling to compose her usual quota of social grace, "I am sorry. Are you alright?" The African hybrid faced the wolf while she spoke, hoping her words were readable. Being a non-native speaker - although a very fluent one - she had no idea if the lip movements would be the same.



Unbidden, she recalled traders in remote areas using signs to speak with one another when they had no mutual tongue between them. Festivity wondered if the other lupine knew how to talk with his hands; not that she would understand - sign language was one she hadn't learned. "My name is Festivity." Well, now that she was here and making a fool out of herself, she might as well plunge in feet first. Social by nature, she had never been able to resist meeting a new face.

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