Those who were taken...
They never came back, dragged beneath the waves never to return.
Their haunting screams were a symbol of their horrific deaths.
Like shadows they lay in wait, the deep blue waters hiding them from view.
With sharp claws they...
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Warning: Sensitive topics will be referenced. Reader's discretion is advised to those under 14 and who may find it triggering.
Cally has not seen Atlas in many hours. After retrieving her breakfast he had taken his leave and she has not seen him since. Of course, his whereabouts shouldn't be of any consequence to her, yet she can't help feeling exposed without his presence.
Ever since she awoke this morning she had felt the tightening grip of foreboding weighing on her chest. Even now the feeling grows ever stronger. Part of her wants to ignore the feeling, knowing it is probably a fluke in her senses from spending so much time alone in a frightening landscape. Yet, she has also only felt this way once before. That day just so happened to be the day she was taken by Atlas. Having such a record of sixth-sense foreshadowing, she finds it difficult to push the oppressive feelings away. Although, perhaps that difficulty is for good reason.
This is exactly why she wishes to find Atlas. Despite him being the main reason for her troubles, he has also proven on multiple accounts that he would protect her. Only, protect her from what she is not sure. Cally's brain wracks itself for an answer to that question. If she knew what danger would be happening, then it would be easier to prepare herself. Unfortunately, her senses offer no such clarity.
She also wonders to what extent Atlas' protective nature would go. So far, he has provided her with sustenance, saved her from drowning, and given his word that he would let no harm befall her by his hand. But what about at the hand of another? Would he save her then? With the respect he has for his kind, she doubts he would betray his blood for her sake.
Cally rests her makeshift bucket of water back in the sand after taking a refreshing sip. With little determination--driven mostly by fear for her safety--Cally begins to search for Atlas. There is the high likelihood that he is in the ocean somewhere. This is a place she cannot venture, so she will stick to searching the island first.
It is small, so it will only take her about an hour to hike the entire perimeter. That would leave only the inland circle left to search afterwards. Cally begins her trek, thankful for the hat and longsleave shirt she discovered in the suitcase. Her fair skin has suffered greatly in the past weeks and she is more thankful than ever for the fully covering items.
Soon enough, sweat begins to gather on the back of her neck and along the rim of her hat despite the ocean breeze. Taking a break from her hike, she treads a few paces into the surf to cool herself before trudging back up to the drier sand. She remains close to the water, though; the powdery sand being much too hot to walk on in bare feet. Cally also unbuttons the top few buttons of her white shirt, the breeze blowing into and around her torso nicely.
As she searches, occasionally calling his name, she begins to wonder if maybe seeking his protection was selfish. Would being near him put him in danger as well? No, he owes her this much at least. Yet, Cally can't help feeling bad about the possibility of him getting hurt on her account. Then again, all of this is his fault anyways. If only Cally weren't so forgiving, maybe she could not feel so responsible for him, but alas, her heart is too kind.
