The first time he sees her it's raining.

Most Guardians have sought refuge inside, except for a few odd cases apparently jumping around on the roofs of the stalls or those who still need to throw in their latest bout of loot into the vaults.

But it's raining.

It's not just a quick drizzle, nah, it's more like the skies decided that today was the day where they'd open up far above and just pour and pour and pour until there's nothing left.

So, when he sees her, the first time he meets his Guardian but doesn't know it yet, she looks utterly miserable in her thoroughly soaked gear, hair hanging limply around her head in thick ropes from the downpour and causing her to leave a trail of water behind her as she hesitantly pokes her head into the Hall of Guardians.

Really, there's nothing special about her. She's pretty plain to look at, has no distinctive features and holds herself as if she's afraid to trip and fall on her ass at any moment.

He spots it immediately—the cautious way she's moving, how she's looking at everything with an almost innocent sense of wonder.

"Would you look at that," Sundance chirps through their private connection. "A baby Guardian."

Cayde smiles.

It's not a nice smile, more predatory if he has to be completely honest, and he hurries to hide it by looking down at the map in front of him.

"I wonder which faction she'll end up in," Sundance continues to muse as she swirls around his head and gently bumps into his beautiful-beautiful horn.

He won't admit it but Cayde's a little curious too. He always is.

Her features are copied into his internal backups seven different ways that same evening.

oOo

Lo and behold, the baby Guardian is a Hunter.

A Hunter who takes down a fucking Archon on one of their first solo missions.

Cayde's not bursting with pride. No, noooooo, not at all. Because that would be poor sportsmanship towards his colleagues. Exactly. Bad sportsmanship. Not him. He's way too mature for stupid shit like that.

What he does do, though, is cash in on the bet he had going on with Banshee.

Sundance disapproves.

"That's unseemly."

"That's business is what it is, 'Dance."

"Still unseemly. You're her Vanguard, Cayde."

"What she doesn't know won't hurt her."

There's a tense little pause.

"If you say so."

"Of course I do."

Cayde pretends to be offended, really plays it up like the clown he pretends to be sometimes. If Sundance buys it is a whole other story.

oOo

Their numbers are dwindling.

It's a sad but true fact—one that the Speaker or Zavala or Ikora are never afraid to beat into him whenever they get a report of a Guardian goin' down for good.

That's why every little newbie that the factions get are kind of… special. They're shown the ropes thoroughly, a senior Guardian or sometimes their resident Vanguard takin' the kids on a tour around the Tower.

Cayde gets saddled with the newbie, to his utmost displeasure.

"Y'got a name, kid?" he grunts while looking through a report from Tevis.

"I…" she shuffles, looks a little uncomfortable before her Ghost bursts into existence and nuzzles against her cheek. "No, Sir, I don't. Don't remember it, at least."

"I see."

Cayde frowns.

It's not unusual for a Guardian to not know their name right after a fresh rez, especially if they're new blood. He can sympathize. There ain't a whole lot he can recall from his earlier lives, either. He wouldn't even have known his own name if he hadn't found those journals close by when Sundance got him up and walkin'.

"We'll worry 'bout that later. Now, have you been introduced to the bar here at the Tower?"

She's frowning now, an utterly adorable vision if he's ever seen one, and Cayde grins that predatory grin of his.

This is going to be fun.

Zavala's probably going to kill him in the morning, but until then he can damn well debauch his new baby Guardian Hunter all he wants.