It had been a while since he just chilled with his sister. He tried to start being more cordial with Sorin, but just looking at the russet reminded him how he looked at Liri, and it just shat on the whole process. And with her trying to keep the Demon from cold waters to cool off, his own remedy was kept at bay until it was clear he could stay healthy long enough to get a swim. The deal was taken in stride, and though he grumbled about it, he didn’t break his promise to her. 

Crisp garnets sought his sister out, crown kept eternally low as his snout searched idle for her perfume. Eventually, a press of calling rose to pull him from an unknown path, giving beacon as to where she was. Haste kicked the Dragon into a jagged jog until he came upon the pale ghost outside of a makeshift cave den. 

“Sessuo,” he greeted with a warm rumble of baritones, his Tsis his sign of humility before her. Though she taught him some of her Inuit, and he tried using it often with her, his proficiency with it was just piss poor. It wasn’t like he expected her to speak Tsis with him, but he atleast tried to ensure she understood it as she tried to see to him understanding her Inuit. 

“Whatcha doin?” His blooden irises skated over the bowl she sipped from, and his curiosity grew. “Is that like a fruit juice or somethin? Is it good?” He made his way over his lethargic sway bringing him close enough to lightly rub his hug to her, and be a bit closer to her experiment, too. Making sure not to get too close, he sat down, feigning nonchalance over his desire to know what made her own excitement a tad bit visible in both body and voice.

With their bond reaffirmed, Siqsa watched her slur out some more Inuit, one of the words he caught being ‘Get more’ and the other being ‘lot of drink’. More incredulous at the putting together of it, a chubby snort left the behemoth, a rare sound of a hacked up laugh from him, and he shook his head with “What?” being what flew out next. Whatever this trip of good livin’ she was on, he wanted some. He did feel worry for her for if it was actually okay to do this- it looked almost like the effect of a slow tranquilizer, or some shrooms. But if a juice made this shit happen, musta been some strong shit. 

Well, there goes the worry. 

Nosing over the bowl of juice she offered to him, a curious sniff showed something was in it that made it smell foul. But it was a sweet foul, less dead and rotting and more yum berry. A couple of hesitant laps turned into a couple of heavier ones before he pulled himself back. He didn’t wanna drink up all the good shit, because oh boy. His head started to hurt in a swimmy kinda way, and his stomach bubbled, but somehow expanded. Then after a few minutes, he felt his muscles relax a bit and he felt good.

A careless flop of his head threw his half shut garnets at the hazels browns of his sister’s. “Yo- this is some good shit, Lir- we gotta share this with fuckin- what? Everybody, and shit.”

He liked this.