Moonspear it's always summer under the sea

His eyes were everywhere but on his mother, but his ears betrayed any notion that he wasn't listening. Altair took enjoyment in watching their surroundings—with the rain a constant, their microcosm of a world had evolved around them. With the grasses thick and lush and wild to engulf them at every turn, there were opportunities to be found beneath every unturned log and stone hidden within.

It was just as easy to get turned around when the world was still very much larger than any of them, and he had begun to subtly adapt to such. Hydra's words served to embolden and encourage him and perhaps if he would follow them his own excursions would be less frought with opportunity to be caught unaware... by whatever figure happened to be keeping watch on them.

His nose working hard, he turned in easy circles testing both ground and air as Mira announced her own assessment swiftly. Not one to be outdone by her and her overachiever status among them, he persisted a few moments more on the muddied, watery scents.

"Uncle @Nikai too," he joined in, his brow furrowing. "Mama, are they huntin'?" With birds and rabbits and at least two familiar scents, he could not avoid being inquisitive enough to already derail the lesson. The rain kept both busy, especially their father, and abruptly he wondered if Nikai would visit them again soon.

"I smell stuff that smells like Aunt @Lyra, too," he went on in the next moment—his nose had not ceased its job.