Coza had been wandering around here for some time. Spring had come and his mind went to the rituals of his homeland, normally there would be a big feast and a celebration for the successful arrival of the time of new lives. Puppies were being born and all of them needed fed and celebrated for. For each pup there would be an offering to the family, never anything to large, but the larger the gift for the puppy the more successful it would be in future. Some would even offer up other wolves, sons and daughters, arranged marriages for the puppies. Those were supposedly the best ones. Coza wasn’t offered any of this until he was older and his eyes began to show. His fire opal eyes were brilant and beautiful, what he was named for. At birth like the others he had been given gifts set for one to be great, well he was also a traitor now. Would he still be great? Were the plethoric predictions correct? He looked to the sky, missing the annual feast. He had been hunting as best he could on his own, his bulk allowed for a hard time for him to catch small prey so he had to catch bore which usually left him battered and bruised but well fed. Now that spring was here the cream and brown pelted brute kept a bright eye out for fawns. Deer their young twice a year, these deer were larger than the ones at home, but still he knew what they were. He dared not try to take an adult one on his own, though he probably could, but fawns were easy and once just a bit bigger good to eat. He felt bad taking young from their parents, but the cycle allowed for such things to happen. It was how life was, some had their sun set very early like winter and other’s had sun longer than night like summer.

He had been raised to know this, understand that this was how the world worked, but never did he understand the brutal sacrifices needed to sustain the cycle. Did this land do it as well? It sure seemed fertile and beautiful, yet he had not run into any tribes, or members of tribes. What was more these wolves seemed to speak the strange tongue his teacher had attempted to teach him. ‘Nonoyurs’ spoke it at least, and her name was so complicated, he hoped not all would be so hard to understand if that was indeed what they spoke in these lands. Hopefully some would understand his handicap, slow down and maybe help him understand and learn. Trying to teach a language to an adult creature would be hard, Coza promised himself if he had children he would make sure they knew the tongue of the land they were born in, and not his Nahuatl, which seemed to be a dead language. As he moved about the area he temporarily called his home he heard someone speaking. Again the language was of that strange foreign tongue, and that of another female.

Curious the large brute moved over the grounds towards what he remembered to be another body of water, clearer than the one he had first found when he had arrived here. Coszcotl had avoided contact with others since Nonoyurs, but he knew he had to learn, had to meet others. Perhaps this wolfess would be more patient, but who was she talking too? He heard a loud splash and peered around the trees, spying on her as she flailed about in the water. She seemed to be around his age maybe a bit younger. He wasn’t sure, she certainly acted younger. Trying his best to remain hidden, to shy to approach, Coza waited and observed. If he was lucky she would spot him and not be angry, or not be seen at all and he could move on. Worst comes to worse she could attack him, and Coza had enough fighting and bloodshed for a lifetime.

"This me speak your tongue."
"This is me speaking my Nahuatl tongue"



Coza
~ Four Years ~ Free Heart ~ Free Soul ~ Wanderer ~