Mountain of Dire this would be the first time, and no it wasn't fun

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Dark nostrils flared as he laid there, eyes minutely glazed over and he wiggled his toes against the stone. It was so different up here. Occasionally one could find a patch of grass on the mountain, but that's all it really was...A patch. And there were trees, small ones, but with roots that were probably all but impenetrable. He pondered what his family would think, seeing their only son up on the mountainside, in his new home. His mother would probably have fainted. His father, proud, would probably scoff, claiming that he'd die in a matter of weeks, but be inwardly impressed. Alexander smiled, and blinked when the she-wolf spoke again.

After hearing her name, he couldn't help but pause and replay it in his mind before mouthing it a few times, and then daring to say it, "Lífdís Eyjólfur." His silver brows rose, leading to his eyes widening. What an odd name. "Well, it's a pleasure to...Kind of meet you, Lífdís. I'm Alexander Dieudonné." He bowed his head, wishing that he could stand up and bow more properly, but was certain that his paw would just start bleeding again, silly thing.

Going to fade this, as I'm removing Lifdis for now. <3 I want to solely concentrate on Ruiko for the moment.

A small smile threatened to crease the she-wolf’s lips as her companion repeated her name – he did a surprisingly decent job for the difference in language, though she still felt amused as others not from her home land would attempt to mirror her accent. At the incline of Alexander’s muzzle, the she-wolf followed in turn, agreeing with her silence for the moment.

Content to simply be, the pale dove gently cleansed a forepaw, every so often glancing up to the male on the separate ledge and she would trade a few companionable words. It was easy-going, and in truth, it was a meeting that Lífdís had enjoyed just because of its simplicity. There was no stress to prove herself to this wolf, and he seemed to accept her for who she was, rather than scoff or jeer, like so many rogue wolves tended to do. The cinnamon-eyed girl would leave her companion to his home after only a sparse hour, but she would leave with the intention of perhaps one day returning, if Relic Lore magically regained the water to sustain life.