For Maria
Someone else could pop in too, if they'd like.The fog was beginning to lift just a little as the sun was rising, a pattern that Beppe was starting to notice as the days sifted by. Of all the borders that they could have stumbled on, he was pleased that his mother and him had fallen across Clouded Tears; the constant mist was so similar to winters at home that sometimes he could pretend he was there. If there was a bit less snow the fantasy could probably end up vivid enough for the boy to believe it. Their new home offered comfort that the rest of the world they belonged to now, so different, could not.
Amidst the familiarity of this territory, the lake was a feature that remained a center of curiosity for the boy, and often times he would sit close to it and wonder if it had a name. It must have a story, as well, as in the ebony wolf's mind, everything had one. If one didn't make itself known to him soon, he would make one up. For now he was content with just waiting and watching. It wasn't his place to fabricate stories about his new home, not yet. That was something that was better left to wolves that knew the land much better.
That idea wouldn't stop Beppe from imagining stories about smaller things, though, and he found himself thinking about pebbles and even a few young trees. It kept him content, kept him busy. He hadn't seen his mother for quite a while, but her scent was fresh and something told him that she would be around soon. The boy wondered how she was doing tossed into a culture that spoke a language she didn't know all that well. He himself had been having great fun.