Lake Rodney We'll walk in the rays of a beautiful sun

Hover over the Spanish for the translation!

Perhaps to the inhabitants of this northern land this weather was hot, but the Mexican was freezing. His thin fur was no match for the slight chills of a northern spring and he suffered, shivering slightly. Ay... He groaned, shaking out his pelt. ¿Cómo se soportar a esa bruja este frío? He muttered to himself, his yellow eyes looking upwards towards the lake ahead. Ah.. He marveled at the sight of the large lake, something he could never get used to in the north. Back in the far off deserts and arid lands of his home a puddle would be fought over desperately before it eventually evaporated. He still was amazed by the vastly different climates, even after spending a year or so in the north. Perhaps it was homesickness.

One thing that still bothered him was swimming. He never learned how to properly swim, still believing water to be too sacred to be desecrated with the body. The sight of a young boy jumping over and over into the water was still new to him, the practice still foreign and strange and downright disgraceful. But these northerners would never know what dehydration truly felt like, would they? That didn't matter to the Mexican right now; he needed information. Information on his lost charge. His disgust he put aside, adopting his usual mask to laidback pleasantry. Mijo! He called out to the young man, striding forward to the water's edge.