I'LL TELL YOU MY SINS AND YOU CAN SHARPEN YOUR KNIFE
It was uncommon for Atticus to engage in the lagoon's more nefarious activities. It wasn't for a lack of respect for his brothers or lack of desire for comraderie. He'd been with the lagoon for the last several years and yet the loss of the Shore still weighed heavily on his mind. His loss, which had been fueled by his own absence, had altered him in a way perhaps those that once knew him would be surprised about. While the acrid mud and rank water of the lagoon clung to many of his brothers, Atticus was almost always surprisingly spotless. Perhaps it was his long legs or his calculated steps, whatever it was he remained gleaming and golden.
He watched with disinterest as one brother plunged into the sea. It was only when another followed shortly that the lanky stallion lifted his head from the spot he'd been grazing on. He chewed listlessly, watching the pair of them swimming as if chasing something. Only when he noticed the mare's distant silhouette did Atticus realize what was going on. Call it a sudden change of heart, or call it random chance, Atticus too dove into the sea.
When he finally dragged himself onto the distant shore, quite the crowd had already gathered. All this for just one little mare. He didn't recognize her more than in passing, not that he had really spent any manner of time with any of them. With the exception of Vitani, though he wasn't sure she'd define it an anything remotely close to quality time.
"Starting without me?" he practically purred as he encroached further into Salem, his gaze flickering between each of the stallions that called the Dunes their home. "I'm hurt." He snapped his waterlogged tail against his haunches, spraying an arc of water in it's wake. |
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