The young man was quiet for a time. It seemed safe, for the moment, to let his guard down. Eln sat and he ruminated on every difficulty this new injury would bring. If it was serious, he could very well die of starvation or by some wild animal. Even if it was not, he might have to stay off of it while it healed, and that meant losing time and strength. He shook his head. Of the two of them, he was the rash one to have allowed himself to be goaded into such a pointless scrap.
"Wakini," the man said suddenly. Eln glanced up in time to see him gesture, first at his chest, and then across the fire. Was it his name? "Wa...kini," Eln echoed. So. Mosquito — Wakini — had chosen peace after all. Eln made a brief face — something to express his exasperation that they could not have simply done this in the first place. But then he nodded. He tapped his own chest. "Ah...Eln-i-Ara, Haruka-i-Kara-Misu." He paused, seemed to reconsider, and then corrected himself, once more imitating the Wakini man's gestures. "Eln-i-Ara." He followed it with one of his own: a hand to the left temple, then extended outwards towards the stranger. My clan greets yours.