The brothers had voted, and though Isengrim had not won the spot of boss, he was officially the marauder of the lagoon. It would have been a point of pride, he thought, if he was allowed to even be a marauder now. The release of the trinkets brought his job itself to a screeching halt. Was he not to raid, not to fight? What even was the purpose of titles like marauder or general if they had nothing to do with their time. He was young, and brash, his once neutral stance on most things seemed to be twitching closer to the dark. His mother would be ashamed to see him, he knows that and yet he pushes it out of his mind. What she didn't know couldn't hurt her, and right now he wasn't doing anything worth knowing.

Or at least, he shouldn't have been.

Isengrim was still the marauder, and marauder he would. The swim to Atlantis had removed most of the muck and mire from his spotted coat, the scent of the sea masking the acrid smell of the lagoon on his pelt. He was thankful for kiss of salt that lingered, hiding his true scent, at least until he got too close. And by that point, he'd want to be seen.

Isengrim had spent most of his morning exploring the lowlands, unused to Atlantis and the Ridge. The foliage was dense and the air was thicker than he was used to. Even in the winter's grasp he felt sweat gather across his pelt. The marauder had taken a few breaks to rest, drink, and eat, but he was undeterred. The smell of mares was faint but prevalent and it meant he was getting closer.

When the rain started, he thought nothing of it, continuing on his mission. It was only when the crack of trees breaking that Isengrim was finally clued in to something being wrong. The smell of the storm was powerful and the way the sea receded out, leaving the entire beach exposed, had him scrambling for higher ground. The speckled stallion found himself swept away, at one point, by the errant water before he finally managed to scramble up on a rock. Several cuts marked his two-toned coat, red blood dripping from the wounds. There was no doubt in his head that the water full of god knows what would have his injuries infected in no time. His only hope was up.

So up he went.