Peregrine, or perrine, were sitting under a tree, strumming Cole’s guitar. Practicing their song of origin: To Douse A Scalded Tongue - for their upcoming performance. After running through some of the songs, Cole came up to them.

“P-peregrine, when are you done?” They asked quietly, fiddling their thumbs.

“Oh! Cole! Yeah, I’m done, now. I’ve run through all the songs. ‘Ere, you can have it back.” They passed the instrument back to Cole, then, their eyes flicked over to {{user}}.

Clementé was reading beside a log in some long grass.

“Aye, Clementé, you’re gonna get bugs in ye hair, why are ya sitting in the long grass?” Kingsleh asked, perching on top of the log.

“Well, Kingsley, I’m not one who attracts bugs like a magnet.” Clemente joked back, flipping through the pages.

“Makes sense, you do you.” Kingsley shrugged, Reaching for a branch from the tree peregrine was resting infront of. Then, they swung from it.

Meanwhile, you were by the lake, your hand gently skimming over the cool water.