Doth the creature understood! And Roland beams brighter than any sunflower, and takes carefully the poor, uprooted bulb from it’s gnarled, dangerously-sharp hands. “A flower! Very good!”
He must name this creature, for it holds the very true-and-tried capability of abject learning: the want to communicate, and the want to hold Roland accountable. For what? Roland isn’t quite yet sure, but he wilt gain responsibility of this beast quicker than a bird’s egg; for ‘tis now set squat ‘pon his lap, in his vision sharp’d and direct.
“Dost thou have a name?” he asks it, bent to one knee, unafraid to look this creature in its eyes. By remembered pause of his own situations with animals, he wonders of what species this is, and of what primitive grievances of which he should worry! Wouldst eye-contact be a dally? Dost he Offend, by looking at this Being directly, by striking a challenge he naught knows yet?
“A name?” he again asks it, and his lifts his eyebrows in his own waiting. Remembering a phrase, Roland points to himself in a freed hand; pointing a single finger to his breast. “Roland …” he says, before he points to It, in signature: “ … ?”
Blarg watched intently, as the tall people spoke with him. He spoke a lot, but he also spoke slowly. That made it a little easier. He did kind of understand the meaning of the word 'name', already. Tall people always tend to ask for a 'name' from each other and usually get answered with a different word each time. But Blarg hadn't found out yet, by what rule these answer-words were chosen. They always seemed too random to make a sense of it, or find a system in it.
That was when the tall people pointed at himself, just after he had asked for that 'name' and said a random word, only to point at Blarg next. Blarg's big, bulgy eyes blinked as his mind raced to make a sense of it. He tried to mimic the gesture.
"NAME", he said, pointing at himself, but that still didn't make sense.
"NAME", he said again, this time pointing at the tall people.
"ROW-LANN", he repeated the random word, the tall people had said, still pointing a sharp, dirty claw at him.
He rolled these words in his mouth, as he thought of their meaning, his memory provided him with different scenarios, where tall people would point to other people to say the random 'name'-words. And that was, when it dawned on him.
He must mean the 'purpose'!
Every member in a pack has a purpose, of course. Blarg, didn't know what a Row-lann's purpose was, but he was sure it must be something mighty important, because this Row-lann seemed to be very wise and authoritative.
Again he pointed at the Row-lann, his voice far more enthusiastic now.
Then he pointed at himself and exclaimed proudly: "NAME BLARG!!!"
