At this point, Frey was fairly certain that tension alone was what kept him upright. Not that it was the worst thing, but he was pretty sure it was worth complaining about. Inwardly complaining. The little voice in his head that picked at all the things that made him unhappy or unsettled, the same way that he’d rip the scab off of a barely healed wound. Right. Frey was his own worst enemy, ahead of every single godforsaken creature that had found their way onto his shit list.

He can hold a grudge, as far as Frey was concerned, that was his prerogative. If the sooty stallion was going to pick his battles, you bet your ass that he’d pick all of them. Really, he’s never learned how to disengage. Never learned how to back down. Bowing out felt like it wasn’t an option– not ever. Even when it got him into trouble, it all seemed to end up… worth it. Frey had decided a long time ago that he didn’t lose fights. There was no such thing as a lost fight. There were only ever, and had only ever been two options: win or learn.

It was a warm, sunny afternoon that seemed to have put itself in full display. Tucked away in the shade of the Lagoon, looking out across the sea, Frey had to appreciate it. Not far away, Thor was cozily tucked away, fast asleep. It was hard not to love the boy, though Frey would be the first one to admit that being a father was a bit exhausting. Not terribly social to start with, the constant questions to answer were… they were a lot. Still, in the quiet moments when the boy is asleep, he finds his mind drifting to Kestrel as well. At least it was a pretty afternoon to be lost in his own head.