The sound was both familiar and welcome. Often the voice would call for him and always he would answer. Every so often it took the slate colored male some time to answer, but always he would answer. Sometimes he threw his head back and called back sentimentally, a mournful call if he wasn't close enough to come running . More often though his paw reacted before his brain had time to. Whether Pripyat found himself as a lupus or a optime he found himself moving towards the source of the call, and that was exactly as he found himself now.

Not too far off to begin with, Pripyat quickly found himself traveling up the shoreline. That Arye would call for him from such a location did not surprise the boy, they often spent their free time drinking in the waves and soaking in the shoreline-sun. When he heavy paw sunk into pliable sand the boy felt at home and though the resistance of the soil was greater, so was his speed. Quickly he found himself coming upon her.

Yet it was just not her that he found. Looming above and out past the distance of the girl that he spent day and night thinking of was a tall circular structure, not unlike the one he was born into. That he had never come across such a location before was both exhilarating and exciting. The lad had spent so much time scouring the east of the pack lands, trying to find a suitable home for Arye and he, and never did he come this far along the shore. He should have though. As gendo he spent a fair amount of time outside their boundaries, but not enough, for he preferred to lay himself down beside the creamy girl when he slept. This too contributed to him not quite fully exploring the pack lands, but never could he resent her. Instead he merely approached with a warm smile and a slow slide of him muzzle along her own followed by his cheery and boyish. "Hey." As if he did not notice the shadow cast by the cylinder structure above the two.

You have my ever permission to PP Prip XD <3

After his own warm greeting Arye came to life, no longer just a figure he encountered along the beach. Her smile seemed to ignite. It was just a tiny spark, but it was enough to catch fire to his whole body. Encouraged by her own joy his smile broadened, and he looked down at her with his meditative look, wondering if she was truly as happy to see him as he were to see her. Yet the thought had no opportunity to linger long for Pripyat could not focus as he felt the fingers of the girl encircling his arm. Glad when she placed a hand upon his arm and drew him towards her, he willingly let his body be pulled in and the lad directed his sight in as she commanded.

Look! Of course he had seen the structure as he had approached, but it had been secondary to Arye. The girl was almost foremost in his mind whether she knew it or not. Or course Pripyat had known that Ichika no Ho-en laid claim to a lighthouse, and yet he had never brought himself to see it, at least not up close. From a distance he had surveyed the circular building off shore, and he had purposefully skirted it. Raven Beacon. He couldn't help but think of the place that had been more than his first home. Whatever replacement Ichika provided somehow seemed it wouldn't be quite enough. Yet he was curious. He wanted to see it. Needed a reason to. Yet just going to see it for the sake of its self seemed almost blasphemy.

When Arye's call had brought him to this point he had not hesitated for a moment. In fact, and almost to his own disappointment, he found himself excited at the prospect of exploring the area. Yet as Arye and him gazed upon it his attention was suddenly snapped back to the girl. The quick kiss and then retreat were both unexpected, one more so than the other. For as close and comfortable as they were with one another they had never really been intimate in any romantic sense, and yet it was not this but her pulling back that puzzled him.

"Sorry?" The perplexity of the boy couldn't help but shine through, his voice concerned and his brows knit together. He'd rather take a moment to savor the contact they had just had, maybe analyze, at least give it the proper attention it deserved. She gave that no opportunity with her hurried apology. "What are you sorry for?" And then not knowing why he did so, only that he wanted to experience it again, he leaned in and kissed her just as she had done to him. Pulling back he offered no apology, merely a look, trying to discern if he was suppose to apologize or not.