Dragoncrest Cliffs All Watched Over by Machines of Loving Grace

At the sound of light footfalls, Lava turned his head overly fast to see who it was coming; perhaps worried that he didn't look busy enough. But it was not blood who approached him, much to his visible relief, it was one of the many youths he'd seen trouncing about the cliffs and fitting company to his present mood. Though ranked lower even than the Yongonakru— not that he was the kind to mind much— he truly only felt inferior when his mother and older brother were around. He couldn't have been happier to see this fresher face.

His ears fell deferentially and his tail wagged amiably as the girl came to a fish-flop at his side. Lave smiled warmly. "I am making a forecast," he explained, feeling doubly eager now that he got to practice the common language, which came less naturally to him than Trigedasleng. "My name is Lava," he added, his soft eyes asking for the return of hers.