It had taken a lot of sweet words to convince his mother to finally let him explore on his own. The travelling was over, they had arrived, though @Ahkna was yet to appear - something which he both regretted and enjoyed, as she was the least cruel but it meant he had beaten someone. While he could understand his mother's overprotectiveness during the trip, Duck was supposed to make this his home now, and he had been born on a mountain just the same. Though slight and spindy, the boy was at least sure of foot, and he had taken pride in his ability to quickly learn the safest and quickest paths no matter the terrain. Now that he was allowed to settle down again, he could finally put those skills to use.

It was a good excuse to escape @Staleek and @Tauza, too, now that they shared a sleeping place again. He should have made more of an effort to enjoy the nights spent without them rather than obsessing over them. Even in absence they terrorized him.

Duck had not gone far enough to catch scent of the brothers who had claimed a site nearby, the jagged, rocky terrain in this part of the range a haven for anybody wanting a private space. Instead, the pale yearling was sat on another outcropping, an untouched but very dead fish laid beside him, its blood slowly trickling down towards the edge and dripping into the void. He was calm, at peace, satisfied with himself and the day for being able to demonstrate another skill in his very limited repetoire. He had caught the thing in the large lake where they now lived next to, and brought it up here to find a view to enjoy it with.

Not feeling anxious, for once, Duck's usually high level of awareness was seriously lacking, his gaze lost over the view of this land his mother loved so much.

The voice broke him harshly from his peace. Duck spun about, head leaping to all kinds of ridiculous conclusions, every single one of which were dissolved when he saw that the wolf in front of him was a total stranger. Somehow, that was a relief, but it was a short-lived one; a duller, more instinctual anxiety blossomed in his chest now, for this presented a whole host of different problems.

But even the suspicious, cowardly Duckweed found it hard to be frightened by the meek, quiet man in front of him. He was larger and older, but not by much in either way, not to the extend Duck was used to being dwarfed. Swallowing, the pale boy took a step to stand over his hard-earned fish, just in case. Not that he would have the balls to really defend if if it came to that. Heart pounding, Duck's ears pushed forward in helpless curiosity, and he watched the other closely. It wasn't like he had anywhere to run, anyway. Oh - but he was being spoken to, and Duck tried to push his anxiety down enough to be able to formulate a response, a small part of him taking note of how the stranger also stumbled over his words. He shook his head at the first question, almost in a daze, for he knew it was rude not to answer.

But... his name? Surrounded by family and packmates his whole life, Duck realised that he had never had to really introduce himself to anyone - and during the trip here, he had actively avoided anything which might lead to that. He had never had to tell someone his stupid name. Somewhere beneath the pulsating panic, he felt a pinprick of anger that he had never considered this scenario. "D-d-d-d," he stuttered, hating himself for being unable to just spit it out, hating it almost as much as having to admit what his stupid name in the first place. Pausing for a breath to contain himself, he had to understand that mother wasn't here to save him from this social interaction. He'd just have to brave it on his own. "D-d-duck," he said, and almost smiled that he managed it - but there was no way that would happen. Eyes wide, he studied the older boy, tail tucking underneath him in a mirrored gesture of submission. What was he supposed to do now? Oh, right. Swallowing again, he twitched his nose in the stranger's direction slightly, just enough to indicate that he was returning the question. The gesture was much easier than trying to fall over a whole sentence.

Even as his heart beat harder and harder, Duck was aware of the ridiculousness of their situation, recognising his own cowardly nature reflected in the stranger in front of him. It could be a ruse, but the boy was very familiar with how his own fear worked, and saw much of the same in the unknown eyes staring at him. Perhaps, if the encounter remained exactly like this, they would be able to reach some kind of timid truce, some mutual understanding borne through shared cowardice. Duck's life was full of exuberant, confident creatures, though they ranged from the cruel to the kind, and they scared him but he knew how to act around them. He hated it, but he knew how to act to minimise his own torture. This was just weird and scary though he felt stupid for it.

His meek gesture worked, and was rewarded with a greeting and name, and then everything got worse; there was a brother. Duck hated brothers. Nico's stuttering began to fade, and Duck's shame grew as he knew that he would never be capable of similar long sentences; just his own stupid, shortened name had been a trial. So not only was he the more pathetic of two pathetic wolves, the less pathetic one had a potentially non-pathetic brother. Who was nearby.

Maybe if he left the fish as a distraction, he would be able to run away unscathed? Physically, at least. His already tattered dignity was being worn ever more thin.

Silently he listened, some keenly alert, anxious part of his brain taking in every word even as a more dominant part of him was busy trying not to panic. His mouth opened and closed around invisible words as he instinctively tried to respond to the questions (as was polite and proper) but his tongue could not remember how to work. Then it really got worse.

The swagger was unmistakable, triggering all kinds of unpleasant associations. He had been right to dread a brother, and there was no doubt that this was he - they looked near identical in all except size and posture. Duck's hind legs began to quaver, his tail unable to press any harder against his belly, as he stared at the larger boy's feet and tried not to imagine Staleek's smug face in place of the stranger's own. All recollection of the names given were temporarily impossible. He wanted nothing more than to curl up and hide, but he was trapped, and could not flee backwards down a sheer fall.

Unlike with the meek brother, who Duck did not really know how to interact with, the pale boy's instincts were all too sharp when it came to this one. Though his ears were pushed back, and his eyes low, he honed in on every word, knowing to watch out for hints of aggression or threats. It was better to be forewarned of these things. Duck distrusted the easy, confident tones completely, recognising his siblings' cool, sleek manners, and dreading it. First friend indeed, more like first prey. The introduction was silky, deceptively warm, and though the names and place meant nothing Duck took note of them anyway. Duck's tongue was a hunk of wood in his mouth, unusable. But he had a feeling that this boy would be happy to hear his own voice over anyone else's.

Then it got worse again, but this time in a way which re-lit the tiny angry fire which had been started when Duck had had to admit to his name - for this time, it was being mocked. Yes, my name is Duck, he thought, throat tight and hot. Not a terrible name, indeed! They, quite literally, only knew the half of it. There was absolutely no chance that he would be explaining the rest. And was that a threat he sensed, in the comment about eating ducks? Because he had heard that before.

It was harder being angry, though, because the part which was angry just became even more infuriated at his inability to defend himself, and the vicious cycle continued until he felt consumed by it, and then it was all hopeless. Taking a long breath, he looked back at the first, smaller boy, and desperately tried to remember their mutual cowardice, that he hadn't felt threatened by the first one. Maybe if he pretended they were still alone... "N-n-n-nice," he stammered, stomach tying itself in knots as he forced his tongue to cooperate, "t-t-t-t, t'meetyou." A lie, perhaps, but was something, and might buy him time. It was safest to show that he was no threat, and perhaps they would get bored and leave him alone. If they didn't share his brother's face, they might not share his wanton cruelty.