THE SUN IN YOUR EYES / pond digging

[michael t.]

LIKE THE MOON SAYS TO THE DARK — The direct opposite of Goldie, Michael wasn't sure he ever could've qualified himself as a workaholic. He had used work in the past to escape his feelings, like when he had constantly kept himself and Trevor moving from job to job in order to prevent him from lingering on his feelings for the canine. However, that had been less of a matter of him enjoying the work, or feeling that he needed to do the work. Instead, he had simply used it as an excuse. An escape. Nowadays, he liked to think that he was relying a little bit less on excuses and lies to make his life bearable, but that didn't mean that he was any more of a workaholic. He was proud of his position as a reaver within the Typhoon, but the majority of the time, he was focused on the more social aspects of it, rather than the more hands on ones. Which was really a shame, since he did have some good brains to put to use when he wanted to, he just needed to... stop wallowing. Focus less on the past. He liked to think he was getting better at that, too.

It was hardly unusual for the bobcat to find himself lost in thought, or in his own daydreams, so he really shouldn't have been surprised when his aimless wandering brought him over to near where Goldie's hut was. However, what he was surprised about was the fact that he nearly fell. Into a pit. That Goldie was digging. Going still at the edge of the hole, the reaver hesitated for a moment before taking several steps back, not overeager to go ass over tea kettle. Once he felt as though he was a safe distance away, he turned his mismatched gaze towards the injured captain, cocking his head to one side, "Uh, hey Goldie. What're you doing...? Burying treasure? Cause, I knew we were pirates, but that's really leaning into it." His own snarky little comment caused a smirk to curl on his muzzle, the fugitive obviously far too pleased with himself for thinking of that one. — WE WILL NEVER BE APART