To see with eyes unclouded by hate
#6
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It quickly became clear to Festivity that English was not the other lupine's native tongue. Her accent was thick enough that Festivity had to pay more attention than usual in order to bridge the gap between hearing and understanding. She surmised that one of the romance lanugages might be the large female's native tongue but would not hazard to guess which. Besides, they were communicating well enough as is and there was no need to confuse the situation by tossing in an entirely new vocabulary. At least Valrian had broken the proverbial ice. Here, everyone might benefit: there would be no lack of conversation and the mynah would be in his preferred place at the center of attention.



The mynah chattered a friendly response and continued inspecting Savina's curled locks, which earned a quiet smile from the traveler. "I'm Festivity," she replied with a slight bow, using the English translation of her earned name which she'd received on her first birthday. "My family consists mostly of traders who move around almost constantly. You might say, therefore, that I am from everywhere -- and nowhere. I was born in Africa, though, east and south across the sea." Throughout her younger years, the multi-racial characters of the caravan formed the roots of her origins; the people of their nomadic tribe were the ones that mattered. Later, the more permanent dwelling of her aunt's family had provided a stable shelter against the storm generated by her mother's untimely passing. She was ultimately driven from there as well, but a traveling life suited her well enough. Certainly, 'twas never boring.



Due to the events of the last twelvemonth, the topic of her origins was still a tender one. Festivity would eagerly discuss the places she'd been and the personalities she'd met there, but home was still a rough, painful and uncertain term. Her world had been overturned -- which was why she ended up here, far from the heated sands of her 'homeland' -- and she was eager not to discuss the particulars with a stranger. Moreover, her driving natural curiousity led to the topic's mutation. "Do you live around here, Savina?" She thought she could smell the tracings of a pack's scent on the other's fur, but couldn't be sure. If she'd learned nothing else, the tale-teller had learned never, ever, assume anything.
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