It was even bad enough for mother to call training off early, mother! Mother the hardass, Mother the bringer of food and pain, Mother the living history of all things Saxe, Mother the Dragon! Taken down by the sun itself!
Well, not really taken down he guesses, but with the sun beating down on the jungle so, she called lessons off before it reached it's peak. He doesn't know it himself, but Nephthys caught his panting, watched him struggle to catch his breath and recover, and decided to call it before he or another of the litter passes out.
Something the boy was very, very grateful for.
It was hard to breathe, at least for his little lungs, even the shade of the trees held no sanctuary from the heat. It wasn't as bad as at the beach, with the sun bouncing back off the water and the sand, but the entire jungle felt like it was crying.
It was almost....almost...like swimming in the air, if the boy knew what soup is that is what he would call it! Everything felt wet, and gross, and he was fairly sure his tongue was going to dry out from all his panting.
Breaking away from the training grounds, the boy slowly went deeper into the jungle, following the trickle of water.
Before flopping down right in the stream, uncaring about the mud, mouth open as he passively drank. Uncaring if a sibling followed, or decided to try and drown him, nothing mattered except this barely cold water.