in laughter, in strife

[Dohi Ulagahasti]

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[ooc] take back everything you ever said

Sorry, I'll do that. I don't normally need to use post tags. xD; Hover over the Cherokee for translations.

[bic] you never meant a word of it

His tree of choice was a tall elm that seemed almost out of place in the cemetery, one he could agree with: This place was not homely at all. He sat himself beneath it, crossing his legs with an elegance that didn't fit his large size, and placed his palms face-down on his knees. He leaned back against the tree and closed his eyes, his ears lowering themselves against his scruffy black hair. Nvwadohiyadv, he whispered, pulling meaningful words out of his native tongue and speaking them as if they were going to grant his tribe some of what he asked for. Naguse. The hunts would need to be successful here, and plentiful, if the tribe were to prosper in the New Land. Sidanelvhi.

At that point, the strange and beautiful words met his ears and his concentration shattered. Some wolves might have been utterly upset and perhaps angry over such an occurrence, but Dohi didn't feel anything more than a slight regret that he hadn't managed to finish in time. He was faced with a man of several colours, all varieties of off white, with bright blue eyes. Dohi hadn't properly caught the fluid words, but he had noticed that they were spidery; a language he couldn't understand. The language barrier would be a problem, but perhaps if he made it obvious that he spoke English too, assuming this cemetery walker could do so also, they would be able to communicate a little.

The peaceful wolf smiled warmly up at Barthélémy and pressed his back further against the supportive elm. I can not understand your tongue, he informed the werewolf, the apology dancing brightly in his eyes. I apologise. Can you talk English? Then he paused a moment and tacked hopefully on the end, Gawonihisdi?

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