Sunny, warm. Late afternoon. Open for one
The water always found him...or...he found it... Reyes squinted at the air for a moment, not quite willing to get into a debate with himself about how water did (or did not move), and settled instead for being glad that it wasn’t raining. For once. The clouds weren’t far off, but at least the afternoon granted him some warmth. As much as he appreciated the shelter and privacy the dense trees offered Shallow’s Edge, he did miss the wide, open plains of the rye fields come the summer time. He was a southern boy, after all. He missed the heat. The sun.
All the same, Reyes found a large, relatively flat rock not far from the Rush’s edge, and settled down, content to sun himself with what little light he had. He’d make due. Maybe he’d take a trip out of the woods soon. The promise of adventure was a tempting one, and one that left him still and ponderous long enough for a pair of fox cubs to venture out of their own den, also not that far off. It seemed their mum had left them to their own devices, for they took no notice of him, instead wrestling and jaw sparring with one another.
Reyes smiled.
His chest hurt. He smiled wider.
“Fuck.”
He fuckin’ loved kids.