Two Rivers Isle AND I'M LIKE; YOU SON OF A FUCKING MALFOY

Vassago knew that, at some point, Mom or Daddy would scoop them up and bring them back, or call them back. Until then, he was happy to push as far as he could, but his limit was not the rain: it was Pyro's waist. He followed Pyro until, when stretching out his neck, he could get his nose a little wet. A grin lit up his face, and he strained to get closer, but to move would mean letting his little brother out of his sight, and that wasn't acceptable right now. 
              "Pyro?"
The boy had stopped, and Vass' weirdly greenish eyes were turned to his brother in question. Couldn't they go just a little further?"