Noctisardor Bypass into dust first

maybe someone he hasn't officially met yet? :D

the pitter-patter of rain has been a constant over the past few days, despite that the it fluctuated on levels of rapidness. pingasut sniffs at the damp soil from the shelter of the birthing den mouth. it is musky and rich; turning the dry earth into slick mud that he isn't sure whether he is repulsed by it or tempted to slide into it. he retreats into the den and waits until there is a lapse in the rain and the sun, defiantly, blazes hot and apologetic in the sky though dark clouds swell and creep in the horizon. a sharp glimpse is sent skyward before he prances outside of the den, sidestepping the muck as best he can. the waterlogged grasses offer little resistance against the muck that dominates the floor of the bypass but it is enough to keep him paws from sinking into the mess all the same; pingasut is ...content enough with it though there is no other choice lest he return to the dry shelter of the den.

not sure if guard counts? lmk!

guardián slept near arbiter’s den, about a field’s length away, for some reason unable to escape the dependency that had formed. she hadn’t done anything for him, aside from welcoming him into legion; he couldn’t understand why he was so attached.. but knew that there was no use in denying it.

waking from his nap, guard could see the pup struggling to maneuver its way out of the den. he watched in silence until it walked just out of view, at which point he decided to silently follow — just in case it got into trouble, y’know?

he counts! they haven't properly met yet!

there is a distinct feeling of being followed that hangs in the soupy air that plagues the bypass. it takes pingasut a small while to feel the pinprickle at the nape of his neck; concentrated on his path and avoiding as much of the mud as he possibly can. pingasut's steps draw to a stop, ears perking and swiveling back; front paw hovering, shifting his weight forward like he's going to continue on his path only to spin in a tight circle that would make any military man jealous in the unintentional flawlessness of execution. providing guardián, true to his name, didn't hide at the signs of pingasut's blossoming awareness, pingasut's eyes would zero in on the older child and ask ( regardless of visibility ) why follow? in a demand.

woah! he laughed. guardián stepped backward and lifted one paw to his chest, an exaggerated expression of amazement on his face, you’ve got cool moves, lil’ dude. this.. wasa little dude, right?

eh, it probably didn’t matter. i just wanted to walk with you. is that okay? guardián asked. he figured that the kid was more willing to agree, if they thought that there was something in it for them — like a playmate!

guard took a step forward, trying to position himself right at his ward’s side. my name’s guard, he explained, what’s your name?

going to go ahead and wrap this up since you're on a break and i've been terrible @ replying to this.

the laugh that draws from somewhere deep in the older boy's chest grates at pingasut, accented with an arrogant huff at the observation that he had 'cool moves'. i know, says the leveling stare of the subtly fire-kissed legionnaire. he considers the older boy's desire to walk with him; eyeing him with unbridled assessment. fine. pingasut finally caves, lifting his muzzle ever-so-slightly as the older boy approaches and offers a name. guard; weird but probably not any more weird than 'slug'. slug. pingasut. in the end, it doesn't matter what the other boy decides to call him: he ultimately answers to both as the divide between his parents on the naming of him ( and siblings ) is growing ever clearer to the boy.

come. he commands with all the air of an entitled prince, taking the lead on his little excursion though, as if trapped by an invisible tether he doesn't stray too far from the birthing den and when called back he goes without fuss, leaving the older boy to his devices.