The Sentinels toto….

Well this isn’t the right way.

The five month old stood awkwardly in the woods, blinking owlishly up at the trees. Vaguely, he remembered that trees did exist around the plateau, but who the hell knew if this was the right way. Carlisle squinted at the sky.

I know I heard the ocean.

Unable to find his sister, despite following her trail for what seemed like forever, Carl, idiot he was, had gotten turned all the way around. Subsisting on small critters sluggish from fall, he made a meager living out in the world on his own. Enough that a thin layer of fat sat across his ribs and padded his frame, just a little, enough that he wasn’t skeletal or anything. That’d be gross.

Carlisle stuck his tongue out at the sky.

Boo, you whore.

He’d find the ocean. Just give him a minute.