Aridis
Mythology Encyclopedia
After wandering a safe distance away from the building, Atlas collapsed on a bench. It was late, and dark out. However, that was perfect for him. The darkness was his ally; his protector.
The Wraith had a habit of writing down everything he had heard, or even seen, while scouting. That way, if he missed anything, then he could look back on it later. Besides, it was easier to piece together information and connect each bit; much more so than if he had decided to do the process in his head. Pulling out his notebook and a small pen-sized flashlight, he began to review his findings. Atlas wanted to know if he needed to stay out longer, or was allowed to go back to the Underground. Well...not that he wasn't allowed to go back if he didn't find anything. However, it felt wrong to him to return empty handed.
He had written down pages upon pages on the matter; and his handwriting was freaking tiny. And, yet, the only useful stuff maybe added up to a single page; not even on both sides of it. Growling in frustration, the boy closed his notebook and jammed it back into his pocket. With a sigh, he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back; staring up at the sky.
There had been one line that kept bothering him. It was relentlessly nagging at his consciousness; refusing to leave him or his paranoia alone.
'I doubt it'll take much longer.'
The Wraith had a habit of writing down everything he had heard, or even seen, while scouting. That way, if he missed anything, then he could look back on it later. Besides, it was easier to piece together information and connect each bit; much more so than if he had decided to do the process in his head. Pulling out his notebook and a small pen-sized flashlight, he began to review his findings. Atlas wanted to know if he needed to stay out longer, or was allowed to go back to the Underground. Well...not that he wasn't allowed to go back if he didn't find anything. However, it felt wrong to him to return empty handed.
He had written down pages upon pages on the matter; and his handwriting was freaking tiny. And, yet, the only useful stuff maybe added up to a single page; not even on both sides of it. Growling in frustration, the boy closed his notebook and jammed it back into his pocket. With a sigh, he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back; staring up at the sky.
There had been one line that kept bothering him. It was relentlessly nagging at his consciousness; refusing to leave him or his paranoia alone.
'I doubt it'll take much longer.'