Swiftcurrent Creek from the inside

lol, it's okay. <3

Kerberos found comfort in the consistent sound of the moving water, though it was not nearly the same thing. Slowly, he stretched a paw towards the water, dipping his toes in, though no more. Submerging too much would wash away the dried salt water that saturated each and every tendril of Kerberos’ fur and while others found it uncomfortable and itchy, he loved it. It was how he carried the Sea with him -- besides his pearl. The salty scent of the ocean clung to him permanently like a cologne. Kerberos had always be frosted in salt water, possibly since his birth, details of which he did not remember. Though this reminded him -- much to his distaste -- of Lecter who bathed in blood and never washed it off, Kerberos convinced himself that it was different because salt water wasn’t blood. Thoughts of the ex-shaman were pushed deftly out of his mind as he relaxed his mind and focused on the numbing feel of the water rushing over and between the toes of his forepaw. Kerberos found this to be relaxing, and felt the tension that had previous tensed his shoulders leave him, as if the current was pulling it out of him. In a moment of homesickness he found himself missing Jinx, Kaskae, and Silatyok -- and the numerous others he had begun to get to know. Missing them was not the same thing as remorse. He did not regret this journey, merely, he regretted (despite how much he truly had missed his months of solitude when he had spent staring endlessly at the Sea, broken only by Nanuq’s frequent visits and their deep, meaningful talks) the solitude. Yet, this was a journey he had to make on his own. So it must be.

When he had further learned the truth of his parentage via Nutaaq, thinking of Nanuq had triggered this particular thought path, he had been disbelieving; and then when stubborn refusal had given way to common sense he had been angry. Angry at Nanuq for never bothering to tell him when she had been given countless opportunities to do so, angry that Lecter had been the consort that had sired him, angry at Aktaie for giving him up -- Kerberos assumed, knowing what he did of the Nereides culture, that this was because he was a male and therefore was not perfect. Angry at the Sirens for not caring enough to come visit him. So being taken away to Shearwater Bay basically equaled death? Or mythological means? That he stopped, what, existing? Maybe, Kerberos examined as these emotions flooded him again after so many months, he hadn’t entirely forgiven. He had, for what little it was worth, forgiven Nanuq…for she had loved him as her own blood. He was grateful for that, and in every way that it counted she had been his mother. It was in the past, but it was an old wound that only seemed to fester when he examined it too closely. It became abundantly clear that it would never heal if he didn’t come to terms with it, if he did not fully forgive that which was never his fault. The past was the past and he understood that old grievances no longer mattered. He would have to forgive them someday, but not today.

Kerberos was broken from his consuming thoughts only when a streak of black moved, caught out the corner of Kerberos’ sea green eyes. Paw drew back, toes hitting air as he planted his paw firmly back on the ground only to rise in a languid motion, shifting his body to face the other male, examining him with a weariness, standing guard over his package, which he was semi-conscious of between his front paws. Ears slicked back at half mast atop his skull, tail remaining neutral as Kerberos extended his muzzle, sniffing curiously at the air, trying to grasp what little information he could from scent alone. Words danced upon his tongue, itching to be spoken, but Kerberos was (almost) too set in his ways to break them -- even though Atka was trying to encourage him too. He had, hardly ever, spoken first in his life and today he did not see fit to change that long streak.