Pull of the tail

North City, the land of everlasting cold… God she hated this place. She was a Rush Valley girl at heart. Rocky terrain, the sun beating down on the town during the good days… They got rain, not snow. Storms, not blizzards.

”Fuck this town,” she mutters, pulling at her coat. It didn’t help that she had to switch arms, either. The pain... Wasn’t what she thought it would be. She needed a distraction. She was tired of the endless waves of intel, the guesses, the paranoia of politics. In this world where one of your enemies could turn into one of your closest allies, who knew what to expect?

She perked up, overhearing a group of teenagers gossip amongst themselves on the street. Cosplay? In North City? There wasn’t a convention for Aerugese animation here, not now… Resisting the urge to correct them, she continued on, but she kept hearing things… Strange man, strange language, strange clothing. And then she saw him, standing on a street corner, looking around with wonder. She was now officially curious.

Walking up to him rather casually, she looks over the tall, half-dressed man. Tattoos on the arms, obviously fit, and clothing she’d go out on a limb wasn’t from any city boutique. But what interested her first was the tail, slowly swishing, almost long enough to touch the ground. Second was his ears, since they seemed to be like a dog’s, or maybe that of a wolf. And since she doubted someone would be stupid enough to walk around North City like this on a whim, she had to assume something else. A chimera seemed most likely, but… This attracted attention. This wasn’t normal. He’d either have to be stupid or just ignorant to how things were here. And so she did the only thing she could think of.

She pulled on his tail.

Such a strange an alien world he found himself in. Monuments that rose to touch the heavens, strange metal beasts that sped to and through on soil so black and hard that it could never produce any life. And humans, so many humans of all shapes and sized, walking in crowds, chattering and shouting, hurrying to places in such an odd manner that made no sense to the Kadzait warrior. Was this the work of black magic? Spirits perhaps? Despite the large number of people that crowded the hard stone pathways that lined evenly along the black trail of the steel creatures that carried even more humans inside, and despite all the distracting smells, noises, and sights around, everyone he ran across seemed to stair at him. They must have recognized him as an outsider.....this was not a good thing, if they turned hostile then he would be grossly outnumbered. By the moon! He was glad he was a Kadzait, he would be able to outrun them all.....unless they had the same weapons as the man he fought seven years ago.....then this could be dangerous. But that man, that man was the reason he was here. He would have to keep searching the endless expanse of a human village until he found out where that man's clan resided, so he could finally take revenge and restore the honor of his sister, may her spirit rest in eternal peace in the afterlife.

Amaruk stopped at a corner in the path. His instincts told him the direction he had to go was north...but to get there, he would have to cross black path which the metal creatures walked instead of the grey paths of humans. They were large and fast, strange mounts of humans, as far as he could tell. How did they ride in them, and not upon them like a horse? This was such a strange world, the sooner he could escape back to the forest, the sooner his restless spirit would be able to find peace.

"Auuuwf!" Amaruk exclaimed in sudden shock, a mixture of a deep growl and a startled yelp, as something tugged at his tail without warning. He spun around quickly, to confront his attacker, and immediately found the dark skinned human, her hair blonde, he eyes somehow different from the other humans he had seen here, as they were golden, and sharp. They were the eyes of a warrior. But why had she seized his tail like that? If she was truly a warrior looking to protect her village, would she not confront him with honor and dignity?

"Warrior of this human village, I ask that you do not touch my tail, I mean you no harm and am only passing through. I am Amaruk Qinnitak of the proud Kadzait people, I come here in peace. May I ask your name, human warrior?" he stated firmly and proudly in his deep and humorless voice. It was an introduction and explanation of the utmost pride, tact, and formality, surely this human would be reasonable and report the nature of his intrusion to her elders, perhaps even guide him to the place he sought out here in this strange land.

”Certainly responsive,” she mutters, continuing to examine him. She didn’t really notice he was talking until a few moments later, when she looked up at him. He didn’t seem so tall a few moments ago…

When he finished speaking, she could only stare at him, much like a deer in headlights. She was half intrigued, one-quarter confused, and one-quarter worried. If his clothing wasn’t enough of a tip-off, then the language he spoke certainly drove it home that he was from elsewhere. Not that it really meant all that much to her. She was pretty much a lost cause when it came to languages…

But she digressed. He was looking at her rather proudly, and… expectantly? That, or he was about to swing at her. She guessed. She shrugged internally, deciding to mull over her next course of action. Yep, always best not to worry whether a complete stranger would hit you for pulling on their tail…

Right. Communication. People actually did that… That was going to be tricky. She didn’t want to talk. At least not yet. Now was a time for examination, damnit! But then again, there was a something alluring about him. Intriguing. Something deeper. Or maybe not. She tended to be bad at hunches like that.

”I’m Major Isabella Galicia, Head of Military Intelligence in West City,” she says, extending her right arm out for a handshake, before hesitating. How much Amestrian did he understand? That was a rather important detail, wasn’t it? With a chuckle, she presses her left hand against her chest. ”Isabella,” she says simply, reaching out and grabbing his right hand for a firm handshake. ”Good to meet you,” she adds on, being sure to smile. Releasing his hand from her metal grip, she motions towards him. ”Well, um… Can I help you?” she asks, only half-confident in herself, obviously getting flustered. Stranger… Conversations… All in the way of what she was interested in. Theoretically, she could knock him out or kill him, but that was unethical. Well, killing him, at least. Knocking him out fell into a grey area, but raised too many questions… No. She wasn’t getting into this debate on the intricacies of…

Distraction! ”What an interesting specimen,” she mutters to herself, beginning to reach for one of his ears, before pausing. She was confident she could take him, but perhaps it wasn’t smart to provoke such a person without reason. Though maybe she could wrestle him into submission in order to examine him more closely…

No. She didn’t have an actual, legitimate reason. Right.

It wasn't really a surprise to the wolfish man that the female could not speak Kadzait. Nobody spoke Kadzait, not matter where he went. His people rarely ventured beyond the peaks of the tall, proud mountains, for death was surely inevitable oustide of their sacred lands. They lived in isolation, they only knew the snow covered pine forests, and icy tundra lands. Ever since he had left his home, he had been to so many strange places, encountered so many odd people. This was no exception. He had spent years travelling, hunting for someone, but everywhere he went, they spoke a different language. The humans who rode on hooved beasts, like elks without horns, spoke one tongue, and then the robed people of the that terrible and harsh desert spoke another. Now he was surrounded by a new people in this strange village, and they too spoke foreign tongue he could not decipher. She said something in that odd gutteral language, which he was forced to dismiss, considering he could not make anything of it. Passing this difficulty in communication would be daunting, but he had managed it before....

Humans, like any other animal, gave off messages through body language. Just as he would understand the intentions or thoughts of an animal in the wilds, he would have to observe this human to understand her. To his mild surprise, as well as satisfaction, she seemed to understand that as well, and played along, placing her hand on her chest and speaking.

"Isabella" she said, with her hand planted firmly on her chest. This word, Isabella, must have been what she is called by others, that much was easy to understand. However, he was far too disracted to the appearance of the hand on her chest to respond immediately. It was grey, it gleamed. It was not fur nor flesh, but something entirely different. It looked similar to the material so many things were made of in this alien land. Curiosity called, a need to investigate to satisfy his impulse. It was instinct, to understand what was not understood and determine whether it was safe or dangerous. She held out the hand to him suddenly. What manner of gesture was this? Perhaps she had noticed the way he stared at her hand, and now held it out for him to familiarize himself with it. It was common practice in his own tribe to leave yourself open so another so they could look you over and memorize your scent. Firmly and confidently, Amaruk took a hold of her hand. His movements were niether too eager nor too hesitant. Displaying either could be a sign of weakness or an offensive gesture to the other. The hand he held was not soft at all, it was not the flesh of human, animal, or kadzait. It was cold and hard like stone. He could not feel life beat through its veins, for it had no warmth of blood. What strange magic was this? She tried to pull her hand away, but, entirely intrigued now, the wolf warrior lowerd his head towards the strange limb, his hair handing down loosely, covering his face. Naturally, as if there was nothing odd about it, he began to breath in the scent of the stone hand, trying to make out its nature through its smell. An objects smell could tell a lot about it.

The mysterious stone arm smelt faint, but putrid, similar to the lustrous stone weapons that wandering kadzait sometimes happened upon, artifacts left by human travellers who wandered into their land. Metahl, is what they called it. There was no word for it in Kadzait tongue. It was a borrowed word from foreigners. The word they used for all the things they brought with them. Some things were useful, such as the knives they brought, made of metahl instead of normal stone. The Kadzait began to use these, Amaruk had such with him. Mehtal shards sometimes made good arrow heads too, and spear tips. But this arm was of no shape or form he was familiar with, in the ways of mehtal things. In all his life and travels, he had never heard of a human who had cold, mehtal skin.

Amaruk continued to probe and sniff, taking in short inahalations of the female's scent, his face inches away from her own, his eyes shut in order to focus on the scents she wore. She reeked of many things he was unfamiliar with, things that confused his nose. It was hard to seperated one scent from the other. But even conglomeration of unknown scents, she still smelt like a human. Humans had assisted him before on his travels, but it was a human who had cursed his life and tribe, and spirited his sister away. But she did not reek of blood like the first human he had met. Strangely, her personal scent, past all the others, had a certain pleasing quality about it, though he could not determine what it was.

Amaruk pulled away from the female and stared into her eyes, as if to make one final judgement of her appearance and character. A few fleeting seconds slipped by as he peered into her peculiar yellow eyes, which were the colour of summer meadow flowers, and then, finally, he lifted his hand to his chest, pressing a firm fist against his skin.

"Amaruk" he stated proudly. His was the name of a figure of mystic lore, a name that any cub should be proud to receive in his birth.

With no more to say, or at least, nothing the female warrior would understand, he relaxed his stance and let his arms droop to his sides, a subtle gesture that indicated that she was free to familiarize herself with him, within proper limits, of course.

What was this, she couldn’t even... Did he not know what a handshake was? What it was for? His hands ran across the lustrous surface of her titanium limb, though whenever she tried to pull her hand away, he just tightened his grip. Well, fuck. She took a deep breath, trying to handle the irritation this was causing. He was… touching… her. Not that she could feel it but…

She tilted her head as he began to sniff her arm. Sure, she enjoyed the smell of the oils, metal, tools, and even the fumes of working on automail, but she couldn’t say they smelled good. Just… comforting. She couldn’t imagine how someone like him would take such a scent. But then he was moving up her arm and… Fuck.

She couldn’t help but blush as he started sniffing her clothing, and moving up to her… her… Um… Very, very personal space. Her face, that is. Everything was personal space to her, but… ”Shit, I’m doing that thing where I’m explaining things to myself,” he notes casually, keeping absolutely still in an effort not to stab this man.

”Hello,” she says tentatively, pondering why he was looking into her eyes, and why for so long. Perhaps he was studying her? Eyes were windows into the soul, they said… And whatever the hell that meant. Still, his eyes were… indigo? What a strange color for someone’s eyes to be, that wonderful shade of indigo.

This was… strange. Different. Weird. She wanted out, but she was curious. And curiosity always won out in the end. Except when she’s ended in a rage… Fun times.

”Amaruk,” the man says, motioning to himself. Ah, so a name. Possibly not his name, but… Maybe she was overthinking. Amaruk. His name is Amaruk.

She pondered why he changed to a more relaxed stance. Was she no longer a threat? Was he about to speak in his… language again? No, no. That was her talking. After putting actual effort into mulling it over, she came to the conclusion a few awkward moments later. It was her turn. Finally, a social rule that made sense! He examined her, she examined him. But they were attracting attention. Or at least she did. Maybe she was paranoid, but she couldn’t be too safe. Grabbing his wrist, she pulls him into a nearby alleyway, swings him around, and immediately starts her examination.

Removing the glove from her left hand, she steadies Amaruk’s arm with her right, running her fingertips slowly and carefully over his skin. She poked and prodded, tracing his veins and muscles, muttering under her breath all the while.

Moving up his arm, she inspected his shoulder, moved along his chest, down and around towards his tail. Contemplating on pulling it again, she decides not to, satisfied enough that it seemed to be moving on its own accord. Spinning him around, she softly ran a finger up his spine, counting the vertebrae and keeping watch for any reaction. Turning him yet again to face her, she can’t help but feel she’s… Violated him. Maybe some cultural thing, or perhaps he didn’t like that. Anyway, besides pulling on his ears, she couldn’t give him a full examination. She lacked a proper place to do so, anyway. Oh, right, and his permission. That was kinda important.

She probably committed a dozen faux pas during her “examination.” Which might end badly when involved someone from… Where ever he was from. Such a place where it was normal to sniff people and…

Oh, right, dog chimera. She sighed, hesitantly leaning in to… sniff… him. Tentatively, she takes a few whiffs of him. Admittantly, it was… strange. Not good, not bad, but thick. Heavy. Comforting, like when she worked on automail. It was that same feeling…

Stepping back, she could feel her cheeks burn. This was such a… a strange man. She needed to know more. Find out more. But… God damnit, he spoke another language. And that meant she couldn’t find out how he became a chimera.

Though mildly confused by her act of taking him to a shady narrow path between the tall stone towers, Amaruk waited in calm patience, still and mute as the woman inspected his body with a strange determination and thoroughness, though he dismissed this as a practice or trait of her people. While he still roamed this land, he had to remain at peace with its inhabitants, that much he understood. He remained quiet and did not protest as the human ran her cold mehtal hand along his arm, studying so intently as if she were searching for something. Perhaps it was the tattoos he wore, that told stories of his strength and the warriors of his tribe's history, but he dismissed such, as she seemed more interested in the lines of his flesh. It was uneasy, to say the least, to listen to her mutter words he did not know, for if she were a witch, he would not recognize her incantations from normal speech. She did not seem hostile, and he did not sense any magic or curse emanating from her. He smelt no danger, so he remained calm and relaxed. She continued to trace over her skin with stone cold fingers in her bizarre ritual, nearly shuddering when she traced his spine. Yet, he tolerated it. He had already learned from past experience and culture shock that one must learn to accept the practices of others. Finally, the inquisitive human seemed satisfied with her scrutiny of his body, and finally turned him around to face her. Amaruk wasn't used to being....handled, in such a way, it was discomforting. But at least it was over now. Finally, she had leaned in to take in his scent, which was quite reassuring for the wolf chimera. For a moment he had begun to wonder if humans had any sense of smell.

He gave the human woman a quiet nod as she stepped back. Her cheeks, as he immediately noticed, appeared to have become tinged with red that contrasted with her brown skin. What was that for again? Amaruk began to wonder if it was a human function or if it was inherent to Kadzait too. It had honestly been so long since he was home, he forgot such minor things. She could have been cold, or maybe ill. But then, if she was cold, that is what she wore all those burdensome clothes for, and if she was sick, then his remedies might not work for humans. It had dawned on Amaruk, whilst considering such negligible details, that if he were to spend more time searching for the human with the face of the devil in this land, he would have to communicate with the natives. Gestures and drawings in the dirt would not cut it. But he was always on the move, and wherever he went, they spoke another tongue. Nothing he learned ever helped him for long.

The Kadzait man's shaggy tail swished back and forth in a slow, listless pattern as he tried to think of what to say.....or rather, do, next. He didn't have time to sit down and learn words for every object in this woman's language, especially if it might just go to waste after he left this tribe's village. If only there was a way he could ask her. Ah, such a cycle, this problem was.

Before it had been so easy; Small tribes, small villages, he knew the man had passed through there and the people knew him too. But now the village was unlike any he had ever seen, and there were too many humans, too many scents. He didn't know where to look.

Then, it looked like he would have to ponder the matter.........Amaruk's stomach spoke up with a low growl, and he realized that he hadn't eaten since he had arrived in he city. He instinctively reached for his food pouch, only to find it empty, and remember that his meal last night had depleted his dried meat. There was not any prey to hunt in the confines of this human village either, it seemed. The wolfish man inhaled the air with a drawn out whiff, taking in all the scents of the city. There were much things that smelled like food, yet, nothing he had ever smelled before. So many different scents. Some were meats, some were crops, and there were others that he was completely unfamiliar with. Maybe there was a feast somewhere?

Amaruk’s stomach growls broke the awkward silence between the two, causing her to sigh in relief. Maybe this would be an interesting opportunity to observe his eating habits? His diet? His…

Oh. It appeared he was out of food. And now the ball was in her court. Her very, very awkward court. What did someone like him eat anyway? Was he even an omnivore? All very important, and intriguing, questions… Until her own stomach grumbled in kind. She smiled nervously, chuckling.

She certainly had the money to treat both of them to a meal, but… Maybe public spaces weren’t a good idea. Maybe he’d get confused by the hustle and bustle of a restaurant, or try and stab someone with a steak knife. And not to mention the attention he’d draw.

”Want to eat?” she asks him, pantomiming the task of eating. Probably terribly, but… ”I’ve got food,” she adds, rubbing her stomach. She supposed that meant food, or a good meal, or… Something. You know what? Fuck it. ”Come on, I might be able to help you out,” she says, motioning for him to follow her. She had a sizeable stash of food at her apartment, which wasn’t too far away…

Ignoring the other people on the street, she looked back only to be sure Amaruk was still following her. A few minutes later, she was bounding her way up a stairwell and fiddling with the troublesome lock on her door. A good shove against it forced the door open, releasing a blast of warm air into the otherwise chilly hallway.

”Home,” she says, inviting him into the small apartment. Although cleaner than her now-demolished house in West Amestris was, it was also a lot emptier, and more spartan. The living room consisted of a couch and a coffee table, covered with research notes, manuals, and half-disassembled mechanical devices, their heavy smell permeating throughout the apartment. The bedroom was small, with a simple bed and an empty dresser, seeing as how she was literally living out of her suitcase. The kitchen, in stark contrasts, seemed to see the most use, with dishes drying in the strainer, knives waiting patiently in their block, and a sizeable fridge that she made sure to keep fully stocked.

Hastily taking off her jackets, she throws them casually onto the couch. ”Home sweet home,” she sighs to herself, making her way into the kitchen. ”Now, how about some food?” she asks, opening the fridge. ”Take your pick.” This would hopefully be an educational experience for her.

The human woman's stomach seemed to rumble back in answer to his own. Ah, so she was hungry too? If only he had a bit of dried meat left, he could have offered a morsel to her, a peace offering to solidify tribal relations. However, there was not a crumb left, and no game in sight.

"Willst du essen?" said she, in her incomprehensible language, whilst motioning to her mouth. Was she stating her hunger? Or was she asking him if he wanted food? It was difficult to tell, and the next set of words along with the act of rubbing her stomach did little to clarify. This language barrier was such a difficult thing. To assume anything was to risk offending her or her people's customs.

"Komm, ich könnte dir helfen." said she, leaving Amaruk confused still, by the sounds and words he did not understand, but he at least recognized her beckoning motion. It was obvious that she wanted him to follow her. Perhaps she was leading him to food. If not, he could always wait it out, until he was in the forest again, where food was plentiful.

And so he followed the human woman through the massive human village through and endless sea of humans. The sheer amount of humans in this village was staggering. There were far too many to even really call this a tribe or a village in the traditional sense, but there were no words in his language to describe such things. He could only hold them in awe, unable to describe them. The humans seemed to stare as he passed them in droves, making odd faces as they looked him over, yet moving further away from him as they passed. It was obvious that he was an outsider and not a human like they, from the clothes that they wore (and he didn't wear) to the tail and ears that he had (and they didn't). Maybe these humans were wary of outsiders? It was no matter, he didn't need the trust of the entire 'Angijuq Illugasatjuat*', only approval of the elders and warriors, so that he could pass through peacefully, live off their land as long as he needed to, and continue seeking the human who reeked of blood.

After traversing through the village, they had finally arrived at a tall stone structure. Once again, Amaruk had no words to describe it, so he would call it "nuvugusiq", or tower. A word his people had only used in describing the lore of the desert lands, its stone towers and the golden eyed humans who enslaved them. The woman entered the tower without hesitation, and already began ascending the carved slope that led further up. Amaruk hesitated, uncertain of entering the imposing building, sniffing the air to check for any unseen dangers, before finally surrendering to the need to follow his human guide. He climbed the slope made of wood, finding easy footing on its many surfaces as they creaked slightly under his weight. Surprisingly, it only took them a few seconds to reach wherever it was that she intended on taking him, and the short haired woman halted at what looked like another entrance, blocked by a slab of wood. She seemed to fiddle with the shiny 'mehtal' object attached to it before she finally gripped it, and the slab swung open, still held to the entrance's frame by its side. He hardly had time to investigate the curious entrance before another phenomenon caught his attention, this time in the form of a blast of warm air. The human woman didn't seem to heed the heat, but it amazed Amaruk that warm air could be contained so easily. He sniffed the air as he stood at the entrance to the room. He didn't smell a fire, so where did the heat come from? However, the room did smell like the woman, Isabella. It must have been her dwelling.

"Hause" said she. A single word. She said it as they had entered the dwelling, so it must have meant home, or something similar. This place was Hause, whether she meant the type of place was Huase, or Hause was any home.

"Huh-auuss. Igluu. Huh-auss" muttered the canine man to himself, trying to memorize the word in relation to his own word for it, and master the heavy breathing sound that was not present in his own language. Violet eyes scanned inquisitvely across the room. There were many objects that he did not recognize. Shiny instruments, thinks made of mehtal, and substances that he could not even place a name to.

"Treffen Sie Ihre Wahl"

Isabella stood near a box like container, a white container with another one of those movable entrance blocks. She was looking at him expectantly with her sharp, yellow eyes. She wanted him to do something with the box? Amaruk exercised his sense of smell once again as he cautiously approached the tall white box. Immediately he picked up an easily recognizable scent. Food....meat, other things he could not figure out what they were, but he could at least tell that it had smelt edible. He moved in closer, leaning down to see what was inside the container. Immediately he felt it, the cold air that exuded from inside the container. Out of curiosity, he investigated and inspected the inside further. It was filled with food, and then all sorta of odd boxes and containers, bottles, all made out of something that was neither wood or mehtal. All of them had pictures of what looked like food painted onto the sides, which struck him as odd, but then he realized that it was possible that this was how they stored food, and labeled it. How strange. But what was it that created the cold air? Fire could make heat, but this place had no fire. And now this box made cold, but there was no block of ice. And ice did not make chilled wind.

Amaruk looked back up at the woman that held the container's entrance block flap thing open. She was watching him carefully. Ah right, this was still a container for storing food, obviously. She expected him to choose food? Maybe this was a custom, to have visitors choose the meal. Amaruk looked over all the odd boxes and small round containers and bottles. None of them looked appetizing from the pictures, he wasn't really sure what any of them were. And some of the food smelt rather odd as well. In the end, Amaruk decided on the bag of what appeared to be a pinkish meat, still attached to the bone. It looked like bird meat. His tribe did not eat bird meat often. The sack was made of some odd material, it was smooth and thin and clear, though there were parts where it was coloured red and yellow and had characters written on it, though he did not know what they said. The meat inside was cold and partially frozen, probably from being in this cold box. He lifted the bag and showed it the woman, seeing if she would approve it as acceptable to eat.

((* - A phrase Amaruk just made up to use as a word substitute. Roughly means big village))

She stood there, looking at the chicken for a few moments. He… he just had to pick something long to cook, didn’t he? Still, it would seem that he preferred meat. She presumed.

”Chicken,” she says, pointing to it. Taking it from him, she slides it onto the counter before collecting the necessary pots and pans required for it. Then, she quickly grabs several seasonings, a cup of water, and some broth. This would take a bit of time…

”I don’t really cook for anyone else,” she says distantly, focusing more on cleaning the chicken. ”So I hope you’ll like this.” Pan full of water and broth, chicken gutteted, olive oil and some melted butter, along with seasonings, rubbed on it… Bam!

Sliding it into the oven, she washes her hands thoroughly. Spinning around, she looks at him, unsure of what to do. They’d have… Too long until they could eat. What else was there to do? She was hungry, she knew that…

”Bacon!” she almost shouts, sliding to the fridge, swinging the door open, and pulling out a pound of delicious bacon, straight from a butcher. Quick, simple, not too filling… Just what they needed. ”Do you have pigs where you’re from?” she asks, already placing a frying pan onto a burner. ”Maybe you have some boar, or… I dunno, whatever they have where you’re from. Wonder where that is, anyway…” As the first slice of bacon hits the pan, it begins to sizzle. Her mouth was already watering. ”Wonder what kind of vegetables you eat… if any…”

Looking back at him, she sighs. ”You don’t understand a word I’m saying,” she mutters. ”Most people don’t know either. Not here, at least.” Chuckling nervously, she checks on the bacon. Well, bacon-wrapped chicken would’ve been a good idea, now that she thought of it…

Mmm, the sizzling and crackling of the bacon was getting to her. Grabbing a few paper towels, she takes two slices straight from the pan, patting them softly to get rid of the excess grease. ”I prefer them a little more rare, I guess. Nice and juicy. Want one?” she asks, offering the slice out of the palm of her automail hand. It was just as clean as a plate, anyway.

archiving (Shu it's been two weeks; you don't bump)

"Huhn" said the human woman, pointing to the back of bird meat Amaruk held.
"Huuhnn" mimicked he, dragging the sounds of the word out in his thick accent. And with that, Isabella took the sack of food from him and set it on some surface to the side. Amaruk observed silently as she set to collecting an assortment of strange utensils and pots; very much different from the clay and wood pots and instruments his people used to cook. There seemed to be a few small, clear jars of what appeared to be herbs and spices too. It was interesting to know that these humans used such things as well, even if they did take a different form.
Isabella began to speak again, though the canine man could not make sense of the long stream of words. Though, the fact that she was not speaking one word at a time meant that she probably wasn't trying to teach him anything else, she may have simply been speaking for the sake of social interaction, to chase away the silence. So instead of focusing on the meaning of her words, he paid more attention to her process of preparing food. Indeed, this had been the first time he had witnessed someone cook with so many strange utensils and devices, as before, he had only known of roasting meat over an open fire. However, some things didn't seem to change at all, when it came to cooking meat. First it was properly cleaned, and gutted, and then dressed with spices for flavour, along with some other things that he could not identify. The human muttered obscure words as she placed the chicken in (to Amaruk's confusion) another strange, alien contraption. Despite his impassive expression, the wolf-man watched the entire process with mild curiosity, bewildered by the idea that something so simple as preparing meat could be made so strange by humans.
As it seemed preparation was done, and that the Huhn was probably cooking in the peculiar box it had been put in. The complete lack of an open fire in the proccess perplexed him futher, but at this point, the Kadzait wanderer had accepted that there were far too many things that he did not understand in this strange land of humans.
"Tocino!" exlaimed Isabella, with such sporadic suddeness that Amaruk nearly lept backwards. Not sure how to reply to....well, that, Amaruk could only stare in silence as the woman spun around and ran back towards the box which held all of her cool air and food. She retrieved from its contents what appeared to be more meat, wrapped in thing wrappings that were made of something other than cloth. This meat was darker, redder, something of more game than bird meat, from what he could tell. Did humans always carve up and store their meat like this? There were certainly no traces of fresh kills anywhere in her home.
Isabella began placing the strips of meat in a very flat, handled-bowl on the top of the cooking box in which the Huhn was inside.
"¿Tiene usted los cerdos de donde eres? Tal vez usted tiene un jabalí, o ... no sé, todo lo que tienen de dónde eres. Me pregunto dónde está, de todos modos ... " said Isabella, in stranger words still, which sounded much unlike what she had earlier said, though Amaruk was not entirely sure, it was all alien to him.
With a very small fire underneath, which seemed to spring from nowhere, the meat began to sizzle and pop in an odd manner. The smell however, was something entirely new to the wolf. It was nothing like meat he had smelled before. It was strange yet.....it was very inticing.
"Usted no entiende una palabra de lo que estoy diciendo,Die meisten Menschen wissen es auch nicht. Nicht hier, mindestens. ". Though he didn’t understand a word of what she was saying still, he was now fairly certain that she had twitched sound and style halfway through her words. Was this a human thing, perhaps? Or was she speaking in many tongues? Amaruk’s thoughts were interrupted when Isabella had taken the meat from the heat and placed it onto her hand, holding it out in front of her in offering. Between tantalizing smell and act of courtesy, Amaruk slowly picked up a strip of hot meat between his fingers and brought it to his nose. He took a deep whiff, cautious of the strange food, before ultimately taking a small bite. The meat was very thin, very greasy, nothing like what he was used to. But the flavour was...it was amazing. Amaruk was shocked by the juicy and strange flavour the meat had, and without much hesitation, quickly devoured the rest of it.