Firestone Hot Springs catalyst

awwww. :( *snugs yildun*

There had come a point, sooner than Kerberos would have liked -- though when did things ever go how they were expected to? -- he had to pause, feeling the heat move through his salt water frosted fur as heated fingers, and gingerly set his precious (tokio had a lord of the rings moment, ngl) cargo at his paws, so he could effectively let out a loud and heavy pant. The expel of heat from his body was relieving. Though this should have been something he was, some what, used to for there were always those moments when the beach was humid and damp from a summer storm the night before; but he wasn’t. Kerberos was aware that this ‘rest’ was eating up valuable traveling time, but it was still early. Not to mention, it wasn’t as if he had a specific time frame to follow. He had no where to be. While this felt quite bizarre to the Aok boy, he chalked it up as a learning experience provided by the ever present and watchful Atka. It was not the loneliness that bothered Kerberos. On the contrary, he was used to solitude. He liked solitude. His social skills were still a severe work in progress and traveling alone, such as he’d done since he’d said goodbye to the Bay, let Kerberos fall back into a comfortable pattern. Breaking out of his shell had been….painful, forcing himself to be a social butterfly, to be more than a shadow; because even the solitary Kerberos wanted to be seen and (on occasion), heard. Claming back up (so to speak) would be easy but did he really want to let all his progress be for nothing? No. Too much effort had spent breaking his mythical, shadow like existence. He was no longer Kerberos the “crybaby”, nor was he Kerberos the “weak”. It was Atka that had lured him out of his shell, obviously, she expected him to continue with his progress. He was like fixing a broken car -- he took work, patience, and love. Some days, he was stubborn and set in his ways, but he would accomplish it. Because she was nurturing him too. For her.

A noise, soft carried along the rising tendrils of steam, broke Kerberos out of his train of thoughts. Startled, the Nereides-Kesuk Aok boy peered around him, frosted hackles the color of wet sand bristling with uncertainty. Bright, sea-green eyes saw nothing, and Kerberos had just managed to convince himself that it had been a bird flying over head, or the squeal of a rodent, when he heard it again. Louder, this time. Distinguishable as a whine, canine. Ears trust forward atop his skull as a shadowy shape became visible through the steam which worked to veil the Greek’s vision. Ears slicked back to half mast atop his skull, as Kerberos ghosted forward a step, dithering upon his internal hesitation. Regardless of the progress he’d made, Kerberos still hadn’t exactly (at all) broken himself out of the ‘Do Not Speak First’ rule he had somehow established as a child. It was hard to force himself to do such now, akin to him trying to knock down a skyscraper with just his body. Atka, however, was the ever helpful wrecking ball, the Bear God giving him a spiritual nudge forward. She did not speak to him. She needn’t. Her message was clear enough. Help,

“H-hey!” Kerberos shook off the barbed wire of tension that constructed around his lungs. “Hey,” He tried again, grateful that he did not stutter a second time. “are you…okay?” Kerberos inquired.