Good Things Come To Those Who Bait

The days had blurred together. The Lord, his most holy Father, was here. Where, exactly, was unknown. His brother would not share it with him. Perhaps he feared that the herald would go crawling back to the Lord and offer up his new family as penance for his transgressions. The thought, oddly enough, had never crossed his mind. Perhaps he had truly gone soft, and become as abominable as his brother.

Seeking refuge from his disastrous thoughts, he returned to the immense river that cut through the landscape. The fish were still plentiful, and he was hoping that a good haul of the slippery creatures would serve as a good deed for the day. He wondered if he could trade them in exchange for something else of importance. He'd speak with his brother about it at a later date. After all, he was a pretty good fisher, all things considered.

A scent wafted into his nostrils. Someone else had the same idea! How peculiar and wondrous. "Pardon me, am I intruding?" The golden male questioned, vocals soft. He could hear the lap of water around a body, but it was faint. Another scent was present, as well. Something unfamiliar. He frowned. "I am only looking to fish," he promised, features curving into a gentle smile. A titan such as himself, heavily scarred, tended to paint a rather fearsome image. Most found him horrible to look at, upon first meeting.

IF YOU WERE CHURCH, I'D GET ON MY KNEES
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