Rubbing his eyes, the tiredness was creeping back in from waking so early. His circadian rhythms were off balance, as he found it difficult to get good quality sleep these past months. Soon the heat would subside as Ignius turned to Venti. At least he hoped so. As the little drake climbed into his lap, he laid on his back on the wood floor. Today he felt especially tired somehow. 

It probably couldn't understand him, but he decided to speak to it anyway. "It's only halfway through morning, yet I still feel so weary. Today will be a long day, I can tell." Gently petting the whelp, he added. "Good news, I've finally found work. It's not much, but if all goes well I should be able to worry a bit less about expenses for the time being. It's a bit too early to celebrate yet however, as there's still much work to be done. The house is in dire need of repairs, and I can't do them myself. But at least we can eat three meals a day without a problem." Putting his arms behind his head, he looked up at the ceiling. Whenever he felt like this, he would wish he could simply close his eyes and sleep for a while. 

The shrill whistle of the boiling pot reminded Cymbel that there was still work to be done, so he took the towel and set it on a cushion, then carefully picked up the dragon whelp and rested it on top. "We haven't had breakfast yet. Let's see how far along it is." The smell of steamed rice began to waft from the pot, and he was setting the fish to soak. This time instead of two salted fish he took out three, and each was as big as a small mackerel. The extra vegetables he harvested the day before were put to use as they were cooked with the fish with a little oil and a sprinkling of sea salt. The aroma of stir-fried food brightened up the kitchen in a way that boiling could not, and the scent alone was enough to get one's appetite going. Twenty minutes later, he set the table. Scooping a little rice with fish and vegetables into what he designated as his guest bowl, he set the cooled yet warm contents for the little dragon. His portion was still steaming, as he didn't want her to burn her mouth when she ate. He had learned the hard way that she was still essentially a child of five, and needed to be looked after.

Finally, he had his first meal of the day. The warm rice and cooked vegetables warmed him from the inside out. The fish was much better when stir-fried, and the cooking oil would help reduce the time he spent waiting for his meals to cook. When he was finished with his food, he began to clear the table preparing to wash the dishes. He only had two sets of lacquer ware and some cutlery, but it was best to not let chores pile up. He already couldn't wait for nightfall to come. He'd welcome the rest.

She did not stay on the towel long after he went in the kitchen. She jumped down and went to the kitchen. she climbed to the place she slept that morning and watched as food was fixed. Once her plate was placed she jumped and glided to the table and started eating. she loved the food. Afterwards, she went to a window and laid down. she let her wings spread so she could digest her food. 

By late afternoon Cymbel was lying on the floor, with a bucket of clean water nearby. The temperature had spiked compared to earlier that week, and he was suffering. The house still had a lot of holes, so the heat seeped in like water through a leak. The floor was much cooler than anywhere else, but even though it was stuffy inside he knew it was only worse outdoors. He'd have to plant some trees around the immediate area soon, so in a decade or so it wouldn't be so hot. But right now he couldn't think about that–he had to keep himself from being steamed alive. Scooping some cool water with a bamboo ladle, he poured it over himself before lying back down on the floor. He felt awful. He was never good with temperatures higher than the cool early morning, as Feeorin was always shady. His hair was lying sprawled out on the floor in damp clumps, and he was face down.

This was the worst time of the day. He couldn't do anything lest he overheat, and had to stay still until dusk. Wasn't Venti supposed to be around the corner? Why was the heat picking up now? He was groggily drifting in and out of a feverish sleep, waking periodically when his body temperature was too high. Time always seemed to crawl when he wanted it to fly, and fly when he needed it to slow down. Groaning, he rolled to the side.  

At The time the whelp awoke the hot temperatures seemed to have little to no effect on her. She went to look for Cymbel. Once she found him on the floor she was confused at why he was just laying on the floor. Was he dead? she thought but realised that he blinked so he was not dead. Perhaps he was tired. She walked over and tapped his arm before quickly backing up and lowered her head as she spread her wings like a dog wanting to play. She repeated a couple times untell movement was obvious. then he ran off, stopped in the doorway and then waited. ready to run off.

The heat was making it hard for him to think. The little dragon poked him and wanted him to play with her. Unfortunately for her, he was not in the best shape to be moving. Struggling, he took a ladle of water and poured it over his head. Feeling warm and stuffy was awful, but for the time being the water helped cool him off briefly. He missed places that were always cool, like Jasumin Lake. The water was always a nice temperature and the winds weren't hot or frigid. He wanted a drink of water badly, but he wasn't desperate enough to do so just yet. Just few more hours, then he could live again. Time passed as he drifted in and out of consciousness in a hazy stupor. When night fell, a few hours after sunset he awoke groggy and parched. The water he had poured on himself had evaporated, and the wood floors were still warm.

How long had he been out? Getting up, the first thing he did was get a drink of water. The cool water was like a breath of fresh air, and he felt revitalized. Seeing it was dark, he went to light a lantern to brighten the room up. He had missed making the evening meal, but with the heat making him feel lethargic he was fine with cool water and some washed greens that could be eaten raw as a salad. "I should have brought back more of those orange fruits…maybe there will still be some left on the trees tomorrow." The loquats were delicious, tender like an apricot with the juiciness of plums. He wasn't sure if there were more wild-growing fruit in season, so he might as well take advantage of it while he could. No longer tired, he stayed up for a few hours with the lantern beside him. Tomorrow he'd have to rise early to arrive at his new workplace, so that afternoon nap had shifted his sleep schedule. Outside, the damp smell of water and the sound of a pitter-patter announced a shower of rain. He didn't think much until he heard the dripping, then that was when the panic came. 

The roof! It was still in disrepair, and that meant he had to keep the place from flooding and the floors from rotting. The next minutes he spent running through the rooms with whatever containers he could find, placing them beneath the leaks and hoping they wouldn't overflow. Finally the rain stopped, and the humidity rose. The damp, clammy feeling made him feel uncomfortable in a new way and he wasn't sure which he disliked more–dry heat or humid coolness.

Seeing that she only had herself to play with she went outside and chaced a squirrel for a wile. Once she got over not catching the creature she went to the tree she planted. Seeing it had grown to the size if one 10 years of healthy growth, she desided to climb it and see what she could. 

At the sound of rain she quickly ran into the house not wanting to get wet. Inside she was quick to notice the man running about with defrent things. She qas getting cold and did not like that the mans shelter was failing at the one thing they were good at and that was keeping water out. 

Aqua climbed to her sleeping place and curled up into a ball severing. As the Fay may have a hard time wondering witch was worce aqua was sure that it was the cold and wet. 

After a very difficult evening, he was dead tired when dawn broke. Much to his dismay, when he set out to leave for work he found the usual path he took was flooded. Following several detours, he managed to arrive at the capital and apologized to his employer for being tardy. Thankfully the rains had meant business was slower than usual, so he wasn't reprimanded. While he was tending the shop, he was thinking of placing some flyers around to see if anyone had lost a young drake. He couldn't keep an eye on it while he was away, and didn't have the funds to take care of it so it would be best if he returned it to its parent or owner. 

When lunch hour came, he checked if it was raining and when it was dry he went out to post a few notices where bulletins were hung. They all asked for anyone missing a small drake of Aqua's description to reply and meet him at a well-known cafe in the city at a certain time and date. It was a shot into the darkness, but hopefully it would find the intended recipient. Back at his house, there was occasional drizzling outside. Not enough that there were leaks, but the air was clammy and humid. In the forest certain places that were lower had puddles of water forming or even little creeks. The sky was grey and the time passed until it was time for him to come home. The peach seed that was planted was growing into a fine tree, and its boughs were shading part of the house's outer walls now. Not only did it offset the rise in temperature, but it kept some water away from the roof as well. Now he could purchase some things instead of spending hours foraging, Cymbel had more time to rest.

With his parasol open, he made the roundabout way back to the house and struggled with the door hinges again–as he did every day. And once again, he was victorious entering with something new bundled under his arm. A few steamed buns with meat and cabbage, a rare treat now that he had a source of income. There were two, one for him and one for the whelp. The smell wasn't dampened by the rain, and she would be able to smell it in no time. Washing up, he set the food down and went to check if the house was flooded or not. A brisk walk about the rooms gave the satisfactory showing of relatively dry floors, and he returned to the kitchen to prepare the evening meal. As he washed the rice he wondered how soon he would get a reply from the notices he posted. He still had no idea how the dragon youngling had managed to come here all by itself, and it wasn't as if he could ask it.

Aqua slept most the day. The humidity making her more tired. hearing Cymbel open the doors she got up ad stretched before laying back down thinking it was not worth the energy of gliding down to the floor. but the smell of food swayed her to do so. she walked to Cymbel and fallowed him until food was given. The hatcling slept well that night and woke up early. this time she decided to fallow the man if and when he left.

The flyers got the attention of a one armed man with a peg leg. He decided to go to the place listed o the flyer and arrived early. He was once a lave that was freed by Vinsue and hoped to get her black hatchling back to her. Though it was not the one he was looking for it did remind him of the one that sat on her shoulder. Corse he only knew her as silvertail but he did know her. He ordered a water and waited for the man and the hatchling.

The next morning he went to check the notice he had posted and found someone had replied. This was wonderful news! Cymbel had been wondering how effective putting up a written bulletin would be, but this was a welcome surprise. Rushing to his workplace, his thoughts were all over the place. He wondered who the whelp's owner was, and what kind of person they were. What should he say when he would meet them at the aforementioned location? Time flew by as his shift passed, and when it was time for the meeting he ducked out of sight before casting his glamour spell. He had taken the precaution of using a pseudonym in his written notice, and changed his features and attire to match an average citizen of Ataiyo. Sporting short black hair with dark eyes and an ordinary kimono, he went on his way.

Arriving at the location, he looked around at the people present. There wasn't anything particularly out of the ordinary, and most of the patrons were locals. Then he saw him–a man with one arm and peg leg. How could he have missed him? By his attire it was clear he wasn't from here, and he stuck out from the crowd like a sore thumb. Cymbel was rather shocked. He was…not what he had expected for a dragon whelp owner. Cymbel had been expecting someone with more pomp based on the circumstances, but he should know better than to judge a book by a cover. After all, he was the one who wasn't showing his true face.

Approaching the man, he bowed politely. He then spoke up, asking. "Excuse me sir, but you wouldn't happen to be here due to a notice posted recently? Perhaps one regarding something missing or lost?" If he was talking to the wrong person, at least he could hide his embarrassment with his glamour spell. And no one would ever know, thanks to that. Taking a seat across from the man, he fiddled with his fingers under the table where no one could see. Hopefully he had been right, and had found the whelp's owner.

"Aye, that be right. Take it that ye be the one that posted it?" he stated that then drank the water. "I came looking for a friend's stolen pet that should look a lot like ya described. I just hope it be ok or this trip be for not." The man stated. "Where is she?" he asked.