if you don't love me at my stinkiest...

The winged boy hadn't spent much time in his tree house of late. It had been a place of his childhood, and he had fond memories of climbing its barky exterior and lounging on the coats inside. He had depressed memories of it too, of hiding out inside on the days when his relationship with Azure had been at its worst. He was passing by the tree now, smirking at ths overhanging branches as they brushed across the border, and remembered the feeling of rebellion, of crossing without really crossing.

As he passed, he caught the scent of mud and sea with a bare hint of girl. He paused, and his grin grew. He knew that strange mix of wolf and muck scent. That was one of his little sisters. She gave their mother as much of a headache with dirty paws as he did. He looked up at the branches, and found the dirty girl freshly landed on the lowest rung. He wiggled his bum, and with a running start he leaped up to join her. Almost knocking her out of the tree with a flailing wing as he settled his balance.