It was a rare day, or so she was gathering, because it was not raining or threatening to rain. It was simply bitterly cold and windy. Really, it was downright miserable, but Toad was well aware that it could easily be worse at any moment if a thundercloud decided to form. Moss green eyes kept darting to the sky to make sure that nothing had formed in the last five seconds since she had looked up. The girl was doing her best to be cautious of the coral that jutted up here and there, the edges were at times sharp and she was careful to dance around those sharp points when she could.

Toad wished that the sands continued here, but alas, they did not. Replaced with sharp rock and living coral. Frowning she lay at the base of one of the pools, it had a smooth enough surface for her to lay down and drape her paws over the edge. Within the pool she could see many fish swimming about, but she also saw the coral that they swam between. There were crabs as well, moving along the bottom and along the sides..maybe she could snag one of them? But no…. She didn’t really want to get pinched. Instead, for the moment she simply studied the crustaceans and the fish that lurked in the water, waiting to see if they had a weakness that she could exploit, tail wagging slowly behind her.

His father had come to visit, brood of new children in tow. Erik was content to avoid them, near ignoring his father’s attempts at closing the distance between them. Talk of ma and Morg moving to the mountain… he couldn’t pretend that the humidity of the winter was doing any favors for his crystals either. The air was thick and hurt his raw throat, and most mornings he woke with a cough that tasted of blood and other minerals. It makes his stomach hurt, his chest hurt, his lungs hurt. That’s fine. The hurting means he’s alive.

Following the track that his father’s raiders left, the viking bastard sniffs his way to Norad. Curious about the near-ghost town that his father had pillaged, and how he could watch them from a distance. Grateful he looks more his mother’s son and smells of the bamboo, Erik doesn’t appear as a threat. Heh.

As he shifts to the Cove, the boy’s orange eyes fix on the sea. Vast as it is, tugging at his chest. A snack before he did his perusing wasn’t a bad choice. Long legs carrying him to the edge of the sea at a ground eating pace, Erik is quick to realize he’s not alone. A girl staring into the pools, eagerly watching for something to come close enough to catch? Maybe.

Though he doesn’t offer a true greeting, Erik offers a ragged grunt. Acknowledgement. A comfortable distance between them, he won’t speak yet. Won’t reveal his difficulties. Taking a moment to track down where the sun was over his shoulder, he adjusts so he doesn’t cast a shadow over a tide pool of his own. Taking a different angle, he watches and waits for a long moment, tense. Muscles coiled. Waiting eagerly. Snacks soon.
"Speech"