"It's an old word which means 'spring'," he said, shrugging slightly, unoffended by how curious she found it. "And it's a hereditary name too, like yours, I suppose. Maybe people are just less imaginative where I'm from."
It was nice, this casual conversation. Of course, he was making a careful note of all the details, trying desperately to build a bigger picture of this land he now lived in. Barreda, her name was - though if she was here alone, her family broken by a flood which happened miles away, it may not have been one of the important names to remember. Perhaps he could just store it under 'friendly' - or, at least, 'non-enemy'.
The talk of the lake wolves, as she called them, was more valuable. A leader who was charitable to loners, what a curious thing - but beneficial, potentially, now that Ziigwan was on the other side of that fence. Desideria spoke of the absence of duties, which was something that Ziigwan could truly agree with as a strange thing, but she drew his full attention with her final question. "I suppose so," he admitted, "though I've not known enough about this neighbourhood to make any decisions about that. It's partly why I came north. It's not entirely my choice - my niece, I follow her lead now. I think she's made it her priority now that I'm here too." Should he admit that he didn't really know how to go about the business of joining some pack full of strangers? How did anyone trust each other without a blood connection? Did they work off bribes, like this Namid? There was only one way to find out. "What are your neighbours like?" He had wandered enough to know that this expansive forest was full of the scent of wolves, and if Fallen Tree Cove made its home anywhere nearby, it must have competition, allies, enemies.