Two tiny men in a hotub...

Levi was roaming a little more now, the Armada was too busy for his liking. Too many people wandered his woods, kicking up stinks he didn't want to have to breathe in as he perched atop the tree branches, judging the world below. He was quick and nimble on his paws, had won some stupid race as a kid that had marked him as the fastest pup in the empire. As if anyone cared about that. There was a lot people didn't care about these days, happenings turned to stories and old resentments faded from memory. The east had been a Fatalis foothold for so long and yet Levi felt little as he traversed the land, slowing only when the sight of rising steam caught his eye.

And a pale white figure lingered in the waters, barely big enough to have his head poking above the surface. He seemed familiar, though not enough for Levi to remember his name. Hm.