A New Friend
A cosprout… Truthfully speaking, Snow has never once considered having a cosprout of their own. The reason? Well… The idea of having to take care of another lifeform is— hm… It just doesn’t seem like a responsibility they’re ready to take up.
Yet, when a lapito he runs across starts following him around like a lost child, Snow can’t bring themselves to turn it away.
At first, Snow thought that this lapito possibly belonged to someone. It’s friendly— far too friendly to be an untamed cosprout. That’s why Snow took it in with the idea of finding its owner.
They would take care of it temporarily, at least until they found its home. However, no matter how much he asked, no one seems to claim this cosprout. So instead, Snow decides to change focus and search it a new home instead.
The lapito is sweet and docile, as evident from the way it loves to jump onto his bed and couch just for cuddles. For some reason, though, they can’t seem to find a cossetling to take it in.
The lapito would act out when Snow isn’t around. A few times, it has found its way back into their house. How exactly it does that, Snow can’t even begin to explain.
“Why don’t you keep it? It seems to like you.” That’s what Caduceus says.
It takes a little bit of convincing and consideration, but Snow eventually decides to keep it.
“You’ll need a name…” They mutter to themselves, crouched next to the lapito who’s munching on a bowl of fruit salad.
A name… A name is important, isn’t it? It becomes part of one’s identity, something that everyone would know one by. A name shouldn’t be given simply because — it must mean something.
While Snow falls into a deep silence and contemplation, the lapito’s ears twitch. It lifts its head and stares at Snow, nose twitching and eyes filled with curiosity. As if it knows exactly what Snow is up to.
“…Boreas.” The name comes naturally. The God of North Wind and Winter — a name that matches their own, Snow. It seems fitting.
“Boreas.” They repeat, and the lapito lifts itself up on its hind legs, as if in response to its name.
That is when it happens.
From the tip of its tail, Snow witnesses a bud come into existence and from the bud, a flower would sprout — one which matches that of theirs. Then, its fur begins to change in color ; in browns, blues and cream.
Snow watches in awe, eyes wide in amazement and mouth agape in wordless enchantment. The lapito’s visuals have changed to mimic that of Snow’s — and they do not need another to confirm that fact.
Certainly, Snow has heard of this phenomenon before. When a cosprout shares a deep bond with a cossetling, they become what is known as a… “Herald,” they whisper under their breath.
How magical, Snow enamours.
Carefully, Snow’s two hands reach out for the lapito, who happily hops over and allows itself to be carried into their arms. They smile, gentle fingers rubbing at the lapito’s cheek and they hum.
“Boreas,” they begin in a soft voice. “I’ll be in your care from now on.”
The lapito stares at them, then lifts its head to bump its snout against Snow’s chin. It seems that Boreas feels the same way.
