It was such an odd thing. Abandon's middle was swelling, in a way he could have never assumed possible. Fat, he could have expected, but, as his side twitched with life, he shifted uncomfortably. He rose, shaking his hide free of sand, and crept out of the cavern in silence unusual for a buck of his size. His eyes swept over the beach, the Cres he'd come to think of as a kind of odd home- not an overly comfortable one, but as near one as he could claim without being back in the mountains. The constant ebb of the ocean was almost the same as the wind in the peaks, at least. The differences sometimes caught him off guard, still, and, in that moment, it was a bit disquieting.

In the search of peace of mind, and sorting out his thoughts, he turned from the delta, and began to meander back into the swamp, the more solid ground than the sand.

The humidity was brutal. It often was in the summer, the rivulets and creeks swelling their banks, stagnant and still, and so escaping to the sea was one of Fish's tried-and-true methods for getting out of it. Clumps of fur stuck to each other as she lumbered towards the ocean. The kin who lived at Crescent Bay were family, and it would be good to get back to them for a bit.

But as she made her way towards the sea, she ran into one she'd seen before. She wasn't entirely sure who he was- there were many, and she was in and out- but she certainly recognized him. He looked bone-tired, and it wasn't just because his markings were so charmingly skeletal.

"Back up, brother- the ocean's this way!" she said, laughter in her voice. "It's so hot and humid in the trees- what are you after in the swamp?"

Abandon slowed his gait, until he stood as still as the mountain roots, then slowly side-stepped out of the way of the totoma making her way towards the ocean. She stopped, though, and spoke to him like an old friend- called him brother, even. He straightened up some, and tilted his head, ears pricking up. Even in a crowd of many, he ought've been memorable, with his massive size. He found his tongue sticking in his mouth for a moment, and he stared at the doe curiously before looking back over the bulk of his scales, the tumble of his wool.

When he finally unstuck his tongue, his voice was rough, low, a solemn contrast to her laughter and playfulness. "Someplace quiet. A lot on my mind, and the slip of sand does not for steady feet make..." He paused, and then added on an echo to her sentiment. "Sister..?"

Scaramouche Fandango wrote:Thank you for picking this up~