The only good thing that could be said about living within the treeline was that they were not so deep within the forest so as to be trapped within the greenhouse of humidity created by the stacking canopies of leaves. In a way, it helped to make the incredible heat as of late more bearable, but the air being this dry created its own set of problems leaving Cancer wholly uncomfortable. He was used to working, and especially needed it lately to keep his thoughts occupied, but sometimes he just couldn't bare to leave the dark cool of his and Risaela's small den.

This was one of those times. He'd tried to step out, but the grass and ferns had crunched underpaw and he was only able to get a drink from a scant nearby stream before he accepted defeat and hurried back underground. On his side, stretched as much as the hovel would allow, he tried to soak up the relative cold of the dirt and not let his thoughts stray too far away from what his next meal should be and what Ris was up to.