Qeya River byzantium

Ruckus followed dutifully, quietly behind. Their world had always been chaotic, and this new chapter was just one of many where they did not know what life would look like on the other side. Like their guardian, Ruckus looked worse for the wear. Their fur was dull, their skin taught against angular features. In many ways, they had still not grown into themself. Six months had come and gone in their tumultuous life, though their features were more childlike than many their age. Small and malnourished, dull-eyed and wary of anyone who was not Redd.

Redd howled, and Ruckus looked expectantly in the same direction she did.

The stranger who approached him had no features that set him apart from any of the many faces who had come in and out of the adolescent's life. Nobody aside from Redd was worth remembering. And so, Ruckus deferred to his guardian, letting her speak for both of them.