OPEN the exodus is here || COG garbage cleanup

[Montgomery]

There was an air of displeasure as Montgomery walked across the volcanic stones of the Descendants of the Departed. The archon would do whatever it took to please his people, but bending the knee to a narcissistic pharaoh would drive him up a wall. Meteor's father was a prick, but a fair one. Based on how Lucia described the new leader, he believed that would not be the case with his son. The canine could hope for better though... but it was unlikely. With Lucia by his side under the guise of a distraction, the congregants were bound to be victims of an unusual circumstance.

With his true feelings waning as they grew near, the leader donned a smile as they reached the black sands. He stood at the front of the pack with his eyes surveying the horizon carefully. Occasionally, he looked back. The congregants who offered their services were close behind and wanted to make sure none of them were picked off by the waves or a wandering cannibal. Thankfully, no one appeared to be missing. To Montgomery, Lucia was clearly his top priority though. If they were going to try to get more than bargained for out of this situation by using Lucia, they were going to have to be careful.

The dog looked forward once more. With an impatient sigh, he spoke out to the crowd. "If they're not here soon, we can just start," he muttered. "I doubt they'd oppose." He wanted to be in and out as soon as possible.

MONTGOMERY S. - ARCHON OF COG

[LUCIA S]

(i can’’t be saved) reaching for the life I threw away

watching as it circles in the drain

Lucia shifted restively on the black sands. She picked up a paw and shook out her webbed toes, then began again with a different paw. By Requiem and Vayu, she’d forgotten how sand got in every crevice. Since she’d been in COG, she hadn’t had to tolerate this annoyance.

Perhaps her husband would’ve had better luck convincing her to stay home if he’d known that she would abhor the black sands.

However, Lucia was here now. And she had her collection net for dives.

This time, though, would be the first time she was diving for collecting plastic trash instead of shellfish.

The cabbit stepped closer to the ocean, but lingered on the wet sand instead of charging straight for the waves. The water was definitely warmer than COG’s near-freezing rivers. That should’ve been soothing. Instead, she got hit over the head with old memories.

But she shook her head. Focus. “Probably the more garbage we clean, the more food we’ll get. So I say we start.”

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