She talks a lot but he finds himself enjoying the fact; it feels more comforting, at times, to be treated in such a way. It is difficult, of course, and the words often float away in the wind but she seems to understand without him needing to be explicit; it makes him grin, sighing ever so slightly beneath his breath. As much as he does not mind the world he lives within, this wolf in particular is one he wishes to understand - after all, she is his blood, and he has missed the warmth of family from time to time. He takes pause, thinking of her words. "Can't hear," the word feels just as foreign as the conept itself, "but we...can do other thingsss. He grins then, his tail waving as if proud of such a fact though he has not even thought of explaining it before. He wonders then,
with a curious tilt of his head, if this other neice feels the world the same way he does.

Before he was able to think on it any further - and before the wave of guilt had time to find him - she is fast to grow excited at their connection; it overwhelms him briefly, unaccustomed to the touch of others after so long as a loner, yet he places his muzzle against her shoulder with the smallest of nibbles to groom a knot in her fur. To him, it was affection - he had always needed the additional sensation to feel truly connected, after all.

"Yoska,"
a word he knows well as he pulls away slowly with a nod and a broad grin, mirroring hers, "means...God will give." He is proud of that, he thinks, for he was gifted with more when he failed to receive hearing.

When she mentions his siblings though, he pauses, his ears flickering back ever so slightly in thought. "Jin...an...Luk," though he was not there for them as he was for his sister, and it catches him off guard but for a moment when he realizes he can barely recall their faces. "Not seen. Long time." He pulls his lips back into a look of guild, his head lowering momentarily in an apologetic bow before he tries to move along, suddenly wishing to find his way back to something more optimistic. Perhaps that is his flaw, no? He seeks to exist in too good a place.

But children are good in such a way - they move on fast and he breathes a sigh of relief as she moves to play rather than delve deeper. She is fast yet, he was always a runner; he barely stands but rather throws himself forward, stumbling ever steps (noisy steps at that) before he steadies himself onto her trail. Though he knows he could overtake her at any moment, he stays dutily behind, nipping every so often at her tail in order to encourage her towards more challenging terrain; Taviora is full of logs and rocks, after all. He remembers just how much fun he had as a child clambering across the wood and feeling the grain beneath his paws. If there is one thing he can do for his sister, it is run her children ragged.