Hideaway Strath Gretchen, what color is the sky on your planet?

Dingo did not disappoint. Figment's excitement grew as the Magnetar declared these to be his "training grounds" and began to give a little verbal tour of their surroundings. The boy padded forward eagerly, poking and prodding his nose here and there to inspect the place. He liked running around, and he liked chewing. And he SOOOO liked sparring. This was seriously awesome.

-"Yeah!"- Fig barked happily, moving his little limbs to ptero while he spoke aloud, -"I wanna fight! I kin be a... a... a Choir!"- Or whatever it was Dingo had called him. He was down with that if it meant being the most best and most powerful wolf in the world! Well, except for Dad. No one would ever be stronger than Dad. Except Mom. Oh, and he and Fenn needed to be equals so there was that too. But everyone else--watch out!

With that, the training began. And it didn't end until Dingo was so bone-weary tired that even Fig had been forced to relent. When he sped off to let his mentor take a well-deserved rest, it was with every intention of finding Fenn and showing her all that he'd learned. But in the end, his weariness had caught up to him, and all he'd done when he found his sister was to collapse at her side and fall straight to sleep.