OOC: My turn for a late one. ;_; You can totally start your real roleplaying threads, too -- I would suggest doing that ASAP! :3 You can have as many threads as you want, you needn't wait for our replies here anymore, yknow? :3
IC:
Enlil looked at her with curiosity as she mentioned a name he did not recognize. “Totake?” he inquired, cautiously -- the boy did not wish to offend her by dredging up memories that would cause Lunatoke pain. She hadn't spoken of him in a negative light, so he supposed it was good he reminded her of an old friend -- if, indeed, that was who Totake was. He listened to her speak of the Esparir berries, and nodded his head a few times, wondering if he would be able to recognize them. Enlil wasn't much of a healer, and with his luck, he'd end up putting something poisonous on his skin. He shook his head at her question; he wasn't quite sure what a pear was. The male's face quickly turned to a sheepish smile at this, hoping he did not appear stupid. He had lived a sheltered life, for sure, but at least he was seeking out new places and new things!
“Thanks, though -- I'll keep my eyes out for them, but I might well leave medicine to the healers. I'll bumble it up somehow,” he said, punctuating the statement with a short laugh. Enlil wasn't altogether useless -- he could hunt quite well, and he found himself in possession of a lovely, lilting howl -- the makings of a singer, if he were able to find a pack or a friend to help him cultivate his talent. The male considered her question, a look of deep thought and remembrance crossing his face. The names seemed distant -- Enlil should have taken more care listening to the travellers. Surely, their information would be rather valuable in this instant. Flicking an ear at a distant sound, some faraway crack of a twig in the woods somewhere, the male drew a breath, figuring he would speak all he knew about the packs.
“Well, the pack I lived in before -- it was my family's pack. I don't know that we were weird, but we mostly lived like regular wolves, I guess?” he started, his bright yellow-gold eyes dancing with laughter, though no sounds of it came from him this time. “The travellers -- they spoke of different places. Dahlia-something, and Cercatori d'Arte were the two names I heard of most often. We didn't talk much about their lifestyles, though,” he said, sorry he could not provide her with more information. “I guess that's why it's good we'll hang around and learn about them all before joining one,” he said, grinning again. White canines gleamed against russet-shaded fur, and his eyes twinkled with amusement. He was glad she'd provided him with such an idea -- he might have joined the first group he ran into, if not, and he might have ended up in a place he did not even like!