Dragoncrest Cliffs All Watched Over by Machines of Loving Grace

Since his return to Drageda, Lava had kept a relatively low profile in an effort to stay out of both the Commander and Fleimkepa's way. He came when called, but otherwise the boy was content to mope along the cliffs and watch the sky whenever he got the chance. There was time for it now— after exhausting himself on an unsuccessful hunt— and the Branwoda plodded slowly towards his favorite ocean-view spot on the Drangoncrest veranda.

His heart still hurt over the things he had allowed to transpire recently in his life, but the yearling was slowly coming out of the funk. Knowing that @Eastwood was here helped some, though he avoided him too because he knew his older brother was disappointed in him. A fact he preferred not to face, for as long as he could avoid it.

Reclining on his haunches, eyes cast out over the churning sea, Lava turned his muzzle up into the afternoon wind and reverted to the practice of his favorite past-time: predicting the weather.

@Sequoia

Sequoia's life had been relatively uneventful thus far. For the most part, her time was spent with family and the rest of Drageda. She knew them all by sight (and color), although there were plenty of wolves she wasn't particularly close to. There was no real drive to change that, but when she happened upon an adult gazing out at the waves, her curiosity got the best of her, and she ambled toward him with twinkling eyes.

He smelled of purple, not far from the blues that Kiwi and Helix were tied to in her mind. What're you doing? she asked, plopping down beside him with a grunt. Sand immediately clung to her fur, but she was used to that.

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.

He said he was making a forecast, but Sequoia didn't see him making much of anything. It looked like he was just looking out at the ocean. He introduced himself as Lava, and although she had seen him around and knew his scent/color, she had not yet known his name. I'm Sequoia, she replied, Dio and Portia's daughter. Maybe Lava had met them, maybe not. It made Seq feel more important, so that was in her favor.

It doesn't look like you're making anything, she pointed out. Seq certainly wasn't shy about telling folks when they were wrong, that much was certain. Besides, what could a wolf even make? She could make a turd, but that was about it. Taking things was more her style.

Lava eventually explained that "making a forecast" meant "predicting the weather," which sounded so boring that Sequoia made a quick departure.