Ori was lining up the tomorrows when the air gave a low grrrrumble. The cave answered with little flickers and soft plink-plink echoes from Ori’s tail bells.

“Storm talk,” Peep chirped, skidding in so fast the message tube bumped his chest. “The cloud paths are wobbling, and the docks are creaking oddly.”

Ori pulled the nearest bubbles close inside the shell satchel. Auntie Kelpseal set a steady hand on Ori’s side and said, “Hope can’t hide forever, dear one.”