[/html]Short, since this is my second attempt at replying. 8[
Barthélémy had become to accustomed to meeting people that did not speak his language. This encounter was a genuine surprise, and he was elated, for he had finally met someone who spoke something that at least resembled his own words. He trotted closer, wagging his tail, and grinning cheerfully. Ever since he had ventured southwards, it seemed as though everyone he met only spoke that strange, flat language that Dohi had taught him. He only knew how to say a few words in it-- nose, eye, tree, ground-- but he was able to recognize it when he heard it now.
"Toé aussi. Ton mots résonnaient étrangement," he noted. Of course, he must sound strange to the other male, since they clearly learned different versions of the same language. "Québec, du nord. Et vous?"
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