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Clouds as thick as damp cotton swirled in the air above the Anican town and swirling just as slowly below was the commonwealth, still cold, still shivering despite it being the heart of the summer. Some weeks have passed since the trauma of Spring's sullen tempest of misfortune and the Clemmings boys were well on the mend. Clurie had since brightened his demeanor, practicing his abilities day in and day out, and learning written language under the tutelage of Adal. He was able to somehow keep a steady hunger for learning every day, despite the consistency of it all. He kept himself entertained and was often seen eating something. Though, no matter how much he ate, he never seemed to grow any thicker. He remained slim and twiggy, and his boyish nature glowed with the hot embers in his cheeks as he pursued every lesson handed to him.

The same couldn't be said for Chauhn. After the horrors of springtime, he became more meek than before, quietly anticipating each day with a nervous gulp and squeeze of his knuckles. He woke up with the resounding echoes of nightmares for many weeks after, much to the irritation of Clurie who often burned him awake when he was whimpering too loud in his sleep. Instead of approaching his lessons with Adal and Georgie with eagerness like his Plague, he confronted them only after a few long moments spent with debate. In order to get him to do anything with any amount of investment, Clurie would tease and remind him about his bloodline and the honor he owed. Chauhn would then flare up and tackle the obstacles in his way and work into the late hours of the night. Of the two, he was the one who still carried the bruises from the waking nightmare.

That was why they stopped that particular day near the town's center, hugging close to the fountain wall to dodge the traffic around them. Chauhn hung his head, nervously looking around them as Clurie stuffed a flyer he had torn off from one of the walls into his mouth. They were looking about, trying to locate a specific shop in the bustling market place around the main square where they could spend a few of their hard earned copper pieces on what was to be the boys' dinner later on.

"How about that one over there?" Clurie asked, crackling the paper in his mouth with a grind of his teeth. He ripped some of the excess from his mouth and paused as he chewed, "We haven't tried them."

"No," Chauhn said softly, "They're too expensive. They drive the prices up because they know getting food is hard here."

"We should just take from them," said Clurie bitterly, stuffing the last piece of paper into his mouth, "It would be easy. We could just grab what we need and be gone in a puff of ash! Just like that."

"That's stealing, Clurie, and no, we couldn't do that."

"You mean shouldn't," Clurie corrected with the roll of his black eyes. The only way Chauhn could tell that he was rolling his eyes was with the raise of his brows.

"No, I mean we shouldn't. They'd know it was you, Clurie, and you're easy to spot in a crowd," Chauhn said, adjusting his clothes so that they sat more tightly over his thin shoulders, "You won't be doing anything that could possibly get you trouble as long as I'm around."

Clurie shoved his hands into his pockets, his face dropping into a frown, "All the more reason to run away from you then," he muttered.

"What was that?" Chauhn asked.

"Oh, nothing."

The Clemmings boys stared out at the crowd.

They stood for a while longer, testing the air with the puffs of their breaths, the haze drifting up underneath their eyebrows. Clurie was steadily growing impatient while beside him his Grimm stared out pleasantly to the crowd, trying to make out what good fortune might be eluding them beyond the mix and match of cold and shivering people. There could be another merchant just beyond them that they couldn't see, he hoped, someone who they could impress upon, use their children's faces and young voices to plea to and perhaps, hopefully, drive the prices lower for their cheap handful of coin. Chauhn lifted atop his toes, trying to make something out, even when he knew that despite his hopes and imaginations, there would be nothing there for them.

Clurie jumped when he heard a loud growl come from Chauhn's stomach. The Clemmings boys both looked down to Chauhn's stomach, and with a small chuckle, Chauhn reached over his waist and pulled his belt tighter. Clurie frowned and stepped away, his cheeks glowing a familiar ember.

"Chauhn" he said, "You're going to starve to death before we find a deal suitable enough for our wallet, so why don't you just go and buy something already? You're eating yourself up!" He folded his arms over his chest, his face quickly screwing into the knots of exasperation.

Chauhn shook his head, gulping and staring down at the small purse clutched within his palm. With the shrug of his shoulders, he looked at Clurie knowingly and said sadly, "But Clurie, this is all we have left from what we managed to save from our duties as pages. We need to spend wisely."

"Spend wisely," Clurie crowed, his palms burning up where they tucked underneath his elbows, "Why spend at all? You were an orphan once, so come on, let's hop to and get to doing what orphans do best!" With the outward fling of his arms, Clurie shrunk his stature, stunting his limbs so that he dropped to the height of that of a ten year old instead of his true awkward teenager self. He ran his hands across his face, smearing it into looking normal, and shook out his hands, prompting pink flesh to take its place in his hands. He couldn't control one thing and that was his eyes, but he quickly fixed that problem with the burrow of his hat over the rim of his forehead. Without a second to give to his Grimm, Clurie turned tail and stomped off into the crowd.

"No stealing!" Chauhn cried after him, stuffing the small purse into his collar so that it slipped underneath his clothes. He pulled his feet up and ran after Clurie, determined not to lose him within the crowd of the market, but as he raced to catch up to his fast moving ward, his forward barreling Plague stepped in the way of one man and was thrown into the way of a particular blonde-haired girl. He slammed against her, releasing an ashy cough as he floundered to pick himself up, and with a stumble, almost fell back into the fountain if it weren't for Chauhn jumping into the way and catching him in his arms.

"That was close," muttered Chauhn, pushing his ward away from the dangers of the fountain. He gulped, trying to set his Plague back on his feet, but he didn't need to put much effort. Clurie was already trying to wrangle himself into a fighting stance, shouting at the top of his raspy lungs.

"Hey!" barked Clurie, losing his disguise with the peak of his frustration, "Watch where you're going!" He shouted this towards the man who bumped into him, but it was to his misfortune that the one paying attention just happened to be the fiery girl he coughed ash over.