Submission (#6910) Approved

 “You’re quite out of shape for somebody who tends to keep an attitude.”

Lanhe pants and collapses on the warm ground. He’s been staying in Erith during miasma season, thanks to the suggestion of Salamandra and the goodwill of the townspeople. Since traveling around this time of the year has been difficult, Lanhe has decided to take the time to train a bit more under the guidance of his (unwilling) mentor. Unfortunately for Lanhe, Salamandra isn’t exactly the…most qualified, but he’s still seen some progress despite some questionable methods from the noble Elnin. This, in turn, leads to situations like these with Lanhe collapsed on the dusty earth and his mentor acting as the unsuspecting onlooker. Lanhe groans and staggers to his feet, despite the muscles in his body protesting venomously. 

“And what….does running in circles have to prove about aptitude?” He stammers out the words (much to his annoyance, he definitely sounded much cooler in his head) and wipes some of the sweat from his brow before leaning over to catch his breath. After a few seconds of not hearing a response, Lanhe glances up, only to find the spot where Salamandra once sat now vacant. He sighs, this turn of events is not new to him, but he still grumbles silently at how unsatisfying it is to never be given a response despite all of the effort he’s been giving his almost daily classes.

“She’s almost as annoying as you are, Peng.” 

There’s no response from his lantern, of course, and Lanhe resigns himself to sitting down back into the dirt (this time by his own power) and staring up towards the horizon. The sun is starting to set, slowly, and Lanhe knows that the warmth provided by the sun on the ground will also soon start to fade as well. Even though Zevija doesn’t reach quite as chilling temperatures as Azha does, there is still a noticeable difference between day and night that he isn’t quite used to. Despite this, Lanhe continues to rest, accompanied by nothing but the gentle swaying from his pomu’s lantern next to him. Even though Lanhe knows it's nothing but the currents of the air causing the motion, he would like to imagine it as a beacon of comfort from his normally outspoken companion. Lanhe has changed a lot in these last few months, something that he wears with pride very well, and he knows that there is still a long way to go before he feels comfortable with embarking on a quest of his own. But, as he closes his prismatic eyes, Lanhe knows that sometimes the bigger picture is instead made up of lots and lots of smaller ones. 

“Well Peng, there’s no time to waste with thoughts like these.” Lanhe stretches as he stands up, feeling the satisfying burn in his muscles awakening with the action. After a few moments, he begins to pick up his pace again, paws making contact with the ground in a mesmerizing fashion. He makes it to the other side of the courtyard-turned-track, and catches his breath for a brief moment, before setting off at a slightly quicker pace. His mentor had called the routine shuttle runs, although they had left him feeling miserable during the first time he had attempted them. Now Lanhe is able to do them with a bit more ease, although he’s still not a fan of how excruciating they can feel after an extended period of time. But, according to Salamandra, this type of stamina would be almost required on his journey into Kyendi. And as much as he may loathe to admit this sort of thing, Lanhe knows that the relatively relaxed environment of Erith and their hot springs was beginning to soften up muscle that was previously quite toned. 

Once Lanhe feels adequately warmed up from the sprints, he takes another breather, entertaining himself with some idle conversation with his pomu lantern.

“I just don’t understand why she won’t give me clear direction,” he complains, looking towards the sky once more, now noting that it is beginning to fill with stars. Lanhe hums a bit to himself in contemplation of his own question. 

“She says this type of exercise will be needed to survive in Kyendi, but won’t tell me where I’m supposed to be going there either. Are all adults always this cryptic?” 

There’s no response, of course, but Lanhe still idles himself with chitchat until the sky is full of stars and the city lights have begun to dim with the coming of nighttime. He’ll never admit it to anybody but himself, but Lanhe has begun to miss his pomu quite dearly. Especially with his friend, Salva, headed home for the coming miasma season. And while the people of the city have been kind and Lanhe loves the amenities that staying in Zevija has provided, there is a certain bit of social faux-pas that he’s had to adhere to. Something he’s not quite used to, but his companions surely are. So Lanhe takes this time to speak things off of his chest, concerns and worries and annoyances, all the things that he’s kept to himself from bubbling up. He speaks them into the night knowing that nobody is listening. 

“Well, well, not just all bark are you?” 

Or so he thought. 

Lanhe yelps, startled by the intrusion of another voice, and turns to find Salamandra standing behind him, quite amused at the monologuing done by the small kittom. His ears flatten in embarrassment, and he’s glad for the cover of the night to hide the shame on his face. Surprisingly though, he doesn’t find himself being berated by the adult elnin. Instead, he flinches when a paw pats the top of his head quite endearingly. She nudges him with her tail and ushers him towards the door, only scolding him for staying out so late and that she won’t be responsible if he were to fall ill.