[indent][indent][h2][i]Nanook[/i][/h2][/indent][/indent]

The calm sounds of the wind had become more familiar to Nanook. Both were beginning to agree to each other's coming and going. So much that Nanook was beginning to the trust the wind's sound to wake him if anything were about to happen. Nanook knew not many creatures listened to the wind all the time, unless she was making a lot of noise.  Usually, she was quiet, and hearing her took patience and effort than listening to other creatures of the mountain.  He was certain she would be a great deal of help for him while he was alone with [i]his[/i] in the cave -- for more than keeping the trees quiet.  The wind had made Nanook her friend, but in so doing, she had combed any nurturing story about Nanook's human from her whispers and let the yeti stray into a sleep right before [i]his[/i] would begin awakening. To let the yeti know anything about his human would be breaking their simple friendship of not making mention of Nanook's secret.

The lulls of the wind outside the save were still silently rocking his mind back-and-forth when a nudge nestled under his fur, and sensing the movement underneath himself, Nanook stirred in his pale slumber. At first, he had drifted into some place that felt comfy in his mind. His thoughts had been terribly uneasy, and this dream place was nursing him quite well. Although, there was a small piece of the cub's embarrassment, having known that this daydream revolved around his young carelessness. His eyelids slowly opened, feeling the heavy entrance of the past days' journey come scurrying back to his mind. A low breath rumbled through him; it was something his father did upon awaking every morning. It was like an ison, a drone sound that setting the cadence for the day. Nanook had never made such a sound before now; even if it sounded like a habit. It took him by surprise, but the gruff melody kept his large body from making any sudden movements that may have crushed the nimble soul, tucked within his strong limbs. 

Nanook's frame flexed and pushed upwards, letting [i]his[/i] have more room. He partially sensed an urgency or some sort of freight to shiver through the spirits of [i]his,[/i] but it was nothing so strong as what he had felt when the two creatures had connected for the first time. The yeti pondered this phenomenon briefly with an unsure brevity and curtness.  It was an uneasy feeling that warranted some doubt and confusion. The first moments had been been such an indescribable sweetness, and the adoration for the first touch was now long withstanding as being engraved for his definition of love.  However, in this moment, Nanook, now in the presence of [i]his[/i] having similar alertness, the eternal pull was not as distinct. Nanook did not enjoy this discomforting difference. He immediately tried to rid himself of this bittersweet sensation he was feeling. 

Of course, it was only right that he should feel nothing but happiness that [i]his[/i] had awoken from so many hours of slumber. He knew full well that he should feel much ease and delight that he had managed to hush the trees and lull the birds from gossip and anything else that might cause his pack to know or discover anything remotely about his whereabouts. He was committing a crime in his father's eyes, after all, -- even if he knew there were more truths than to the ones his ancestors were passing down from generation to generation. To be seen with a human would cause such an alarm that perhaps the entire mountain would grow sick and begin spitting herself up, again. Nanook did not wish for another upset mountain nor for something so deadly to happen to [i]his[/i]; but he did wish for that stronger connection he felt with [i]his[/i] during the snowy turmoils, again. 

His torso shifted slightly, white paws curling with sleepy movements that broke the hazy light that had crept its way into the mouth of the cave. Small shadows gestured as the yeti turned his head, and his small snout poked between the himself and [i]his,[/i] to push his own pink nose against the dark, hairless human fabric. The feel of the velvet skin, was soft against his nose, now sniffing playfully by kiddish accident against [i]his[/i] neck and collarbone before pulling away in excitement, "Awake?" his voice cut coarsely in a juvenile manner through the silence that had veiled the trees' rumors. His blue eyes studied the human's gentle frame. It was so fragile, and he could see through thin skin places where [i]his[/i] could easily be hurt if handled the wrong way. 

[i]His[/i] smelled differently than when [i]his[/i] was fast asleep. He liked the way [i]his[/i] smelled. He could not describe the smell. [i]His[/i] was an unusual smell. But, [i]his[/i] was also a very good smell. [i]His[/i] smelled like something he was supposed born to love.[i]His[/i] smelled like he was his. There was another smell that Nanook understood. His ears also agreed with his nose. His eyes were having a hard time observing this, however. There was something more knowledgeable about him that Nanook could hear and smell. The way the stiff air hovering around him was different. Even the darkness acknowledged a cautious nobility when drifting through the cave. Nanook could not see this knowledge like he wished, but his ears and nose noticed it with a stern affluence. He had been so concerned about what everything outside the cave would hear that he had not perceived in the least this new detail about [i]his,[/i] until now. It made so much sense about all the legends he had been told about humans. They were the kings of the earth. It was great honor for Nanook to know that [i]his[/i] was a human.

Pulling his squashed nuzzle away from [i]his,[/i] Nanook tucked his ears back, keeping his head lowered. His body peeled away slowly, as well. Each paw took a careful step backwards, not wanting to make any sudden movements. He felt huge in comparison to the delicate creature in front of him and did not want to scare [i]his.[/i] Larger creatures usually frightened him, especially the big bears. He understood the feeling of being intimidated by size, especially in that of a stranger. Nanook was young, but in this much, he was not naive enough to trust anyone. Blind trust was for cubs. Cubs still trusted trees. It was true that they (like the birds) rarely ever angered trees, as well; but Nanook thought trees to be tattletales; and he usually got in trouble for tattletaling.

"Awake?" Nanook asked again in a small whine, trying his hardest to sound as nonthreatening or angering as possible. His mouth stretched into a small smile, and his eyes perched with the expression. He knew many creatures feared teeth being shown, but for [i]his,[/i] he could not hold back his hopefulness. He also knew Osha enjoyed smiles, and her face looked very similar to that of [i]his.[/i] He thought of times when his mother had told him that he had thought too quickly on an answer to something and been wrong. He did not want this to be one of those such times. It was not because he thought [i]his[/i] could do anything to him if he felt threatened, but Nanook did not want [i]his[/i] to feel any more discomfort than he already did.  [i]His[/i] was not already a sensitive instrument, but [i]his[/i] was also very wounded.