Arrow Lake If you'll come to know if I'm the faithful kind

@Praimfaya, perhaps?

Things were changing, but not close enough to him or his family for it to directly take hold of his existence. Still, there was something that could be scented in the breeze that passed through Diaspora. It was what had drawn the young boy from the den and into the crisp end of summer air. He could taste the rain before he drew his narrow muzzle upward and peered into the tumbling silvers and greys of the storm clouds. It would not likely be much, but it would be enough to dampen their earth in a thin layer of water, and it would lift the rivers so that they could pour into the foliage and feed strength there.
 
Much of his strength had been restored. Trench was nowhere near the size of his other siblings. It was likely that his size would remain leaner than theirs would. Even his features had seemed to take on more of their mother’s shape than their father’s. Time would reflect just how much he would grow into his adult frame. Though he had been plagued by his mysterious sickness for many weeks before that point, the dark shadow just might have pushed through and emerged victorious.
 
Scouting out further than he had before, the dark boy set his nose to the earth and sniffed for his path. When he had grown used to the way that his limbs moved and carried him, Trench made quick work of the ground beneath him. He ventured into the Diaspora territory without fear of what might happen to him on his own. There had been enough time spent in overcoming his weaknesses; it was time to learn just where he derived his strength.

praimfaya, though the past season has come and gone without much notice from her, grows excited for the seasons to come: autumn and winter. both sound pretty fantastical to her and there's an undeniable pep to her step as she makes her way through diaspora. usually, praimfaya moves with vigilance — even in the safety of her own home — but today she is lost in her mind's eye of what autumn and winter might look like. her parents have tried their best to explain the colors and smells and what 'chill' and 'cold' mean to her but without experience she struggles to conjure an accurate image.

still, she finds herself romanced by the idea of the two seasons to come — and recoils abruptly as she nearly crashes into the charcoal boy that had gone unnoticed in her daydreaming. her steps come to an abrupt halt before she can actually make contact and she is sheepish as she lets out a low, apologetic chuff at him. she does not immediately recognize him and fills in the blanks of who he is: a son of the basilisk and ketzia, then. hei, she greets him in trigedasleng, assuming as she always does, that it is close enough to it's common equivalent that she does not need to offer a translation.

Far too wrapped up in his own thoughts and wonders to notice the presence of the approaching girl, Trench was just as taken aback when they nearly collided with each other. The stranger reeled before chuffing quietly and then greeting him in a bold tone. Her immediate nature was something that he noted quite readily. The girl was not someone that Trench believed could be ignored. There was a competence to her stature that was challenging for him to shake. The young inkling regarded her with a careful stare for several long moments, uncertain of her intentions. As fierce as she might have appeared, she had not done anything to cause him worry.
 
“Hello,” the dark boy returned to her with a small dipping of his narrow muzzle. The motion was not one that was warranted, and Trench did not feel as though this girl was over him, but he believed that his approach would have been more favorable if he showed her a modicum of respect. She was probably a few months older than he was, and she had filled in her shape quite well. Trench thought it to be a good opportunity to meet some of the other pups in Diaspora. The illness had kept him for too long and his social abilities had been stunted because of it.
 
“Who’r you?”