Sunspire Mountains There is no such thing as a lousy job - only lousy men who don't care to do it.

The Drudge knew his place among them, knowing that he was below even the Consorts — like the man before him. Atreus' attention was mostly consumed with the women of the pack, his days filled to the brim with the tasks that they assigned of him in their quest to “break” him. Aella was as rough as a sea storm, not as genteel as her younger, fairer sister. There were some times in which he wanted to tell Aella that she need not be so rough with him, that he would do whatever she asked of him , without complaint regardless. It occurred to Atreus in those moments as he bit down on his tongue to keep the spirited words from slipping out that perhaps that was what they meant when they spoke of breaking him. He was complacent to their wishes and commands but there was a part of them — his spirited Kesuk blood, he wagered, that bid him to have such thoughts. He never dared to speak them. Not to the Nereides and not to anyone else. If they could break him of his mother's fiery spirit that he seemed to have inherited then all the more power to them. He attempted to suffocate it by ignoring it but when he was allowed out to play, when in the presence of wolves that he was not loyal too it came out with the vengeance of a gladiator who had not seen the light of day for weeks. At that point, Atreus didn't bother to stop it because as far as he was concerned wolves not connected with the Nereides were free game to his whims and sass. The sound Consort's chuff was lost to the Sea but there was no place that the Drudge would rather be. He intended to bathe in Her waters, after all, and had a preference of bathing in salt water as opposed to fresh water. His sand colored fur was coarse with the dried salt water, his way of carrying the Sea with him everywhere he went during those times he was forced to be apart from Her for a period of time. I would like that, sir, Atreus told Atlas with a soft smile.