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Under the dark roll of the clouds, Nutuyikruk had beaten the boy to the lakeside. It was a petulant thing, to be possessive of one's lakeside escape, but Caan knew he would forgive Nutuyikruk for taking his self-appointed place on the lakeshore. The moon girl had earned the sight of a more gentle side to the rain boy. He dared not to call her a friend, but she was the closest thing he had to one.

And like any child, he wanted to show the closest thing he had to a friend something shiny and neat. Caan did not join Nutuyikruk by the lake, not immediately. The boy had left to find where he stashed the flint Iglux̂ had gifted to him. The boy did not carry the trinket everywhere as he had the fawn skin, but he always returned for it.

What Caan did not anticipate, was the sight of a stranger strolling right on over to the moon girl. Who did this guy think he was? Walking up to his almost-sorta-maybe-friend at his spot by the lake.

The mighty huff from the boy's lungs was muffled both by his trinket and by the storm looming overhead. His icy stare bore into the back of the strange man's head. Caan noted the man's scent, coat, and even the limp that was not too unlike his own.