Stone Circle there's a beautiful sadness that runs through him

As he suspected, it didn't take long for the dove to seek him out—though she was quite slow at finding him. He'd been watching her wander around his perch on a pile of rocks for quite some time, and it was only when she passed by thrice that he sighed and gave up. As much as he didn't want to talk to her, the boy felt a bit bad that she was so stubbornly looking for him.

"Hé, (Hey)" he called, his impression garbled from the unknown language. "tu ... m'as fait... peur? (you... gave me a.... fright?)" Clay was uncertain he said that incorrectly, but it was all he could muddle together after a broken memory. He wondered if she would remember the first words they exchanged as he lazily eased himself from his laying position, stretching his legs and shaking out his ragged fur before stepped out from the shadows and into the moonlight. He gazed down at the dove with an emerald gaze, their color glinting in the night.