wrong side of heaven

@Njal

It was in the lulling babble of the creek for which the pack was named for - or rather this was what Cutthroat had chosen to assume since it made the most sense to him; despite that where he came from they didn’t name packs after territory names - that Cutthroat allowed his guard to slip, albeit only partially considering his back was to the copse of trees that lined the small little give away of greenery that stretched between the trees and the creek itself, his shoulders taunt as he peered down over the small and gentle slope of the bank, his head resting upon one paw, while the other floated with lazy abandon atop the cool water, splashing it in a sea-like manner as the water rippled beneath his skimming touch. Cutthroat was drawn to the water, being a Pirate as a moth was drawn to a flame. It was not something he cared to attempt to resist, even if it were possible. He missed the soothing, something gentle and sometimes raucous crash of the waves against the cliff face, or if he was below the cliff against the shore, and while the noises between the untamed Sea were quite different then the soothing lullaby sounds of the creek, it was water all the same. Not to mention he was in no position to grumble about it. First, he had chosen to come back to Creek even after what he had been apart of; Second, at least he was alive to enjoy the water.

Cutthroat was often found frequenting the creek, when he wasn’t occupying a section of Fox’s den and not in any way that suggested anything more than he was a prisoner she intended to keep a close eye upon. For all the rapscallion knew she was watching him from somewhere nearby at the very second, though he doubted it. While she did keep a close eye upon him he was certain, he also knew she couldn’t possibly watch him twenty four - seven. Not that he made any attempts to escape since his capturing. He had thought about it, fleetingly, as teenagers were known to do. Just to be a little bit rebellious, just to tease but had ultimately decided against it. This wasn’t a game after all and though his life was secure for the moment he wondered how long it would be before his life became meaningless. Likely when Fox realized that he could not be used as any sort of leverage, a fact that the inky pirate intended to keep a secret for as long as he possibly could. Cutlass and Corsair did not care about him, and even if they had in any teeny, tiny shred as their pack mate it was long burned now since he had broken ranks and proceeded to not only order them about but then turn traitor to them.

There was no where for Cutthroat to go, and atonement for whatever short amount of time he had left was better than doing nothing at all.