The interest he held in the forest would have to be put in the back of his mind. He had a job to do, and little time to do it - or so he often told himself, in order to avoid making the women wait too long. Atlas could smell various things, but as his nose was attuned to the brine of the ocean and its inhabitants, he was at a loss for where to go.
The musk of fox was prevalent in some areas; the scurrying of mice could be heard in others as they parted like a tide in the underbrush; a faraway squirrel chirped a warning to the passing wolf, as if by will alone it could keep its youngsters safe. Atlas moseyed, but he did it with a purpose. Every snapping branch or shift of the wind had him alert and looking for another path.
But he did not see a target to hunt. Instead, his two-toned eyes caught sight of an earthen wolf wandering on their own. He was hesitant to approach at first, but eventually his path mingled with that of the stranger's; when close enough, Atlas noticed the manner in which they walked, the feminine scent, and then saw the flash of blue held in the woman's gaze; he was instantly at ease.
Γεια σας εκεί!
He called out - using the tongue that came naturally to him, with the assumption that all women would understand it. This was a lesson he ought to learn sooner than later: the entire purpose of the Nereides being in this area of the wilds was to redirect the heathens on to the proper path, to return them to Mother Moon. Thus not all of them would understand the language of the sea. But Atlas was thrilled to have company, so he forgot all of that and picked up his pace. Είναι αυτό το δάσος σας?