Poor soul - Beached Child, Joining - with no spirit to name

[ARVID R.]

Someone new – a child. Not only that, but someone that had washed up on the shore... well, that was certainly a new one. Arvid couldn't help but feel curious as he approached, his curiosity only growing when he heard what the kid was speaking. He spoke soon after Aphra, a faint chuckle leaving him, "I, uh... I know what she's speaking, at the very least. It's Latin. I've seen plenty of it in the scientific names of my books, but it's generally a dead language. I don't really know much..." Beyond simple phrases and scientific names, the scope of Latin that he actually knew was very limited. So, speaking to her in her own language didn't exactly seem to be an option. And he wasn't really sure that Aphra's method of simple, broken English would work, either. Even if many English words had been derived from Latin ones.

So instead, the boy decided to go with something more simple – pictionary. With a claw, the canine reached out to carve a few shapes into the sand, eventually coming together to form a small house. A home. He then tapped his paw on the little drawn structure, tilting his head at Scyllios in a questioning manner. His actions were meant to communicate a simple question – do you need a home?

i wanna be the sand inside that hourglass