Nen'tah would not be far behind. There was so much to see, between the great hanging curtains of spanish moss and eerie lakes with their heavy veils of fog obscuring the far shoreline; curious new creatures, bugs he had never seen before, huge bugs with gnarled horns and gleaming wings. There was no shortage of tree frogs either, their song a steady chorus against the living hum of the marshlands.

He had liked the forest, but this was even better.

The humidity was only a mild irritant, his pup-fur not yet long enough to be a true nuisance even as it plastered wetly to his skin. Exploration and journeying were inherently a messy business; Nen'tah's awe of the world around him easily overpowered his discomfort.

But what were those?

Bright feathers in a shade he'd never seen before danced enticingly just beyond. Yaalk'ali seemed wholly unbothered, and Nen'tah swiftly closed the gap as he crowded in with the rest of his kin.

They had already asked what burned at the tip of his tongue; Yaalk'ali gave an answer which surprised him, and the boy's eyes widened as his gaze snapped back toward the gathered flock.

Ice Raven... judged from the eyes and beaks of neon swamp-birds?

Nen'tah swallowed, then straightened.

He should have been more respectful.