Northstar Vale Colored indigo

closer.

The girl continued to draw near before deeming a safe distance and sitting... er plopping down—or maybe she was just interested in that particular patch of sponge. Regardless, it was close enough for the boy to reach out on his own. His claws scrapping at the same nestle of moss she seemed preoccupied with.

He was calm in her presence, relaxed. Until she had spoken.

Raising his brows at her babbling, he blinked. 'Oh god's, she can barely talk. How old was she? When do pups even begin to hold normal conversations?' "Reiko," he corrected. "Em-per-rer" he punctuated, hoping that would suffice in teaching her. Clay didn't know how to exactly navigate the current situation; holding a conversation with a child. But maybe he could help her speak formally.

Turning a paw, he pointed at himself. "Clay," and then the moss... "moss."