— I'm not here looking for absolution —
He leaves their children fighting the undead. Leaves and as soon as they are out of sight, he doesn’t think of them again. They have promise, he thinks, but they are still children and thus at risk of being utterly useless. Either they would rise up against his minions and prove themselves at least mildly worthy of his time or they wouldn’t. He didn’t mind much either way. Either way though, he doesn’t dwell on it.
Instead he turns his attention to the current annoyance on his mind: their mother.
He wouldn’t have had to set the small army on them if they had simply been able to tell him where Gospel had been in the first place. But they had defied him and he now had to look for her himself.
Irritated, he begins to walk further into the Cove, wondering why she lived here at all.
It was no Pangea, he thinks, although even that place was only half worth his time.
Sighing, exasperated, he finally stops, digging through the earth until he finds a small bird. It cracks through the soil and takes flight in the air above him. With a small noise, he directs it outward, letting it do the dirty work of searching for the leader of this land. He should have done it from the beginning, he realizes, but shrugs it off. He had no way of knowing his offspring would be so infuriating and so useless.
Content enough with the idea that the small undead bird would find Gospel soon enough and be back with news of her, he comes to rest against a small tree, his hip pressed against the bark.
Either the bird would arrive or she would find him.
Both options would work just fine for him.
