Firechild is not a fan of the rain, she decides as she and her brother skulk beneath the trees. It kills her flame and makes her moody, dampening the brightness in her eyes, subduing the soft spring of her spindly step. They came to the forest in search of some respite, but the drip, drip, drip follows them even here. A stray raindrop lands on the girl's rump; another strikes her brother's nose, making him reel and squeak his surprise. She laughs in the darkness but is silenced when more water cascades from the sky, kissing her ear in the manner of an unwelcome admirer whose advances are stubborn and unable to deny. She flicks the golden precipice uneasily, scowling in the darkness and trudging on, deeper into the woods and further from the sobbing sky.

The pattering of rain follows her into the woods, laughing in the canopy and mocking her attempt at escape. She ignores its cries and forges on, jaw set stubbornly and head held high. Beneath her belly Natraj trots, his sister's growing bulk a makeshift umbrella; Tandavi snorts at the implication that she's fat, launching a half-hearted kick that her Kitsnue easily ducks. The squelch of wet leaves is unpleasant beneath her hooves, the bubble of moisture digging into her frog, getting under her skin; no, she does not like the rain, and she shakes her head unhappily to dislodge all the water she can from her densely braided hair.

They come across the living ink in a flurry of motion cut sharply against his still. For a moment it seems they will walk right past him, missing completely his black form where it rests among the towering trees. Scent is muted by the dense, damp air, and Tandavi is not seeking the company of others; but Natraj pauses all at once, nose raised to the air and large ears pricked ahead. He scans the area through golden eyes, while ahead of him Tandavi finally notices, and stops, arcing her neck back to frown at her friend. "What?" she questions, and her voice is her mother's, impatient and dark with a harsh, mocking light. Other, Natraj answers in the recess of her mind. Friend?

Black eyes follow the fox's gold gaze, seeking through shadow to find their invisible companion. The girl does not like surprises, especially on a day like this; it makes her jumpy and singes her bones, and she feels soft anger beneath her skin. "Hello?" Tavi calls, her hard voice underlain by Natraj's soothing purr. The girl steps forward, her head held high in a semblance of confidence which masks uncertain disconnect. "I know you're there!" she declares, insecurity making her talkative, the damp bringing out her innate inner flame. "Better come out, before Natraj goes to get you!"

At her feet Natraj mutters a canine dissent, calling out softly to take the edge off harsh words. Not that reassurance is so important- the boy is barely big enough to conquer a mouse, let along a horse fully grown and unhurt.