Observation is a habit Viktor's never been able to shake. Curiosity and the cat, or just the intent dismantling of nearby ships in his head as a child as he tried to logic out how they could function. Perhaps even age old instinct of a boy who couldn't fight and couldn't rely on flight, instead the flimsy guard of recognizing trouble and hiding before it could sniff him out. All of it required rigid observation, one way or the other. Maybe that's why he keeps coming to the sea in the early months, as much to witness the new sleepers as it is to get a hint of what trouble will inevitably follow as the month progressed.
Last month was high tension and revenge giving a hint, this month he can't help but wonder if the instances of bad weather off the coast are an omen of things to come. As if to prove a point about the sea holding the dangers of this month he comes across this particular and baffling scene- a man in the new robes, a creature that grates against Viktor's mind as though trying to slot into a space it isn't designed for. Panic grasps him, animal and rational, the deep shuddering horror of what shouldn't be at the ocean and the understanding of danger, and another in danger.
He's already decided to approach, nearly stumbling with his cane in the uneven sand, when the man's omen comes out. It almost gives Viktor pause, almost, a stuttering confusion at the similarity before he's close enough to hiss, "Come on, this way."
The wind is picking up, and the empty expanse of shore seems too dangerous, too open, but the rocky mess nearby dotted with caverns may be easier to slink to without being noticed.
iii
Last month was high tension and revenge giving a hint, this month he can't help but wonder if the instances of bad weather off the coast are an omen of things to come. As if to prove a point about the sea holding the dangers of this month he comes across this particular and baffling scene- a man in the new robes, a creature that grates against Viktor's mind as though trying to slot into a space it isn't designed for. Panic grasps him, animal and rational, the deep shuddering horror of what shouldn't be at the ocean and the understanding of danger, and another in danger.
He's already decided to approach, nearly stumbling with his cane in the uneven sand, when the man's omen comes out. It almost gives Viktor pause, almost, a stuttering confusion at the similarity before he's close enough to hiss, "Come on, this way."
The wind is picking up, and the empty expanse of shore seems too dangerous, too open, but the rocky mess nearby dotted with caverns may be easier to slink to without being noticed.