He doesn't see Ruxin where the painted stallion had been sleeping, doesn't so much as sense his presence as covered in mud and settled as he had been. And the siren song of the ocean waves is the only sound he really wants to hear, the beguiling musk of salt and sun dried seaweed the only scent he desires in his lungs, the touch of water and sand the only one he wants to feel. He didn't realize how much he missed the ocean until he was standing in it; how empty the place where the answering call of his kelpie blood used to reside. He's all hollow now, nothing but the haunted echoes of a life that once was and he hates it. He misses Selke like the blind miss their eyes and he hates it, fury burning hot beneath his skin as he breaths hard and deep, sides working like a bellows as he tries to work through it. It's a momentary thing, the emotion will pass like all emotions do, but Ruxin's plaintive cry interrupts him and he spins like a wild thing, all flashing eyes and bared teeth. "WHAT." It's a shout that isn't a question, it's a demand to know who on this green earth dared to bother him when his unprotected heart is in his hands. This was a private moment, a pause for grief and reflection, and he does not appreciate having it intruded upon.