Muarim whipped his tail behind his back, catching Tormod on his nose and causing the young magician to laugh. The beorc then ran off when called by a friend, leaving the tiger laguz to walk along the path to camp.

The laguz sniffed the air. Rain had fallen recently, giving the willowy trees and wisping leaves a bright fragrance. The trail below was firm, not sloshed with mud or windswept debris. Muarim enjoyed days where the sun peaked briefly from behind white dust clouds and a light breeze kept the environment lively and fresh.

Padding along the path silently, Muarim let his eyelids fall a short ways, enjoying the soft pattering of a distinct creek and the nearly indistinguishable slide of grass blades rubbing against one another. The tiger paused as he topped a gentle hill, sandals leaving gentle imprints in the dirt.

The earth lay even and undisturbed, little bits of grass jumping up in areas. The path continued forward, mostly straight with the trail well defined against the woodsy background. Muarim slipped his left sandal off and let it rest atop some blades of grass. He pressed his foot into the soft earth, and looked around quickly before letting his tail weave happily.

The dirt was soft and wispy, heavy enough to provide mostly firm underfoot travel, yet light enough to be caught by a passing breeze, making the earth settle in a light dusting across the expanse of the trail. Muarim ground his heel into the soft soil happily, the gentle rumbling in his chest such a natural reaction to elation that he didn't register the familiar noise. He slipped his right sandal off and set it next to the other, crouching down to bury his hands in the yielding earth. The rumbling grew stronger. With another glance around his surroundings, Muarim smiled, nose lengthening and fur spreading.

With a delighted purr, the green tiger rolled over and rubbed against the soft soil, tail weaving happily and fur becoming wonderfully dirt covered. Muarim rolled onto his side and rubbed his furred head into the pliable ground contentedly.

Muarim flipped to his other side, back facing the small hill while the thick mane of hair that gathered at the back of his neck ground into the yielding soil. The green laguz lay there contently, letting the distinct perfume of nature overwhelm his senses while the mild breeze drove past his ears. Muarim rolled over again, dirt clinging to his sides and tail.

"Hey!" Muarim jumped up, paws landing upon the ground and eyes alert. Largo waved happily from further along the path. The mercenary laughed loudly as the green fur receded and Muarim stood, hands brushing the dirt from his shirt and pants hastily. "What's up, Muarim?" Largo questioned, coming to stand in front of the laguz. "Having fun?"

The tiger kept his head down, tail rubbing against his leg anxiously. "Hello, Largo," he replied softly.

"Well, come on!" Largo called, bending his neck to peer up at Muarim's face; touches of color gave the tanned skin a bright hue. "Something up?" he questioned again.

Muarim lifted a large hand to brush dirt from the once white material of his bandana. "There is nothing," the tiger answered, feeling foolish as the large beorc gave him a strange look.

"You sure?" Largo asked, rubbing the side of his head. "You looked like you were having fun, purring loud and everything,"

Muarim cast a hard look at the soft soil beneath his feet, just waiting to be rolled in and tossed around. "I was not having-."

"'Cause I found this really big mud hole on the other side of camp!" the mercenary said in an excited baritone. "I bet those kids haven't even found it yet!"

The tiger paused, finally glancing up from the ground to see his friend grinning happily with an eager gleam in his eyes. "I see."

"Well, you wanna go, right?" Largo didn't wait for an answer and grabbed the laguz's hand. "Come on, camp's almost set up. That brat of yours is gonna get there first!" Largo urged, running along the path, towing Muarim by the hand. "There's this great water hole I want to show you, later, too," the mercenary called, head turning to give the dusty tiger a suggestive glance. The tiger felt the familiar rumbling erupt in his chest and followed the large beroc, sandals forgotten.

--

Because Nico-chan deserves all things great and wonderful. Including silly tigers that like to roll in dirt.