[God. He hates the ocean. He hates the ocean. He hates this stupid, beautiful, horrifying ocean.
It's all he really has drilling through his head as he mingles through the expanses of the island, trying to hunt down certain people. Surrounded on every side by water with an agonizingly close distance to the beach at every turn, Solomon would rather be back at home than here with his focus shot under who knows how many stressors.
But there are a few he wants to check in on, and Day is one of them. So he's trapsing through the sand, looking particularly grumpy as he looks up and down the surf, the streets, trying to figure out where Day is without resorting to a magical signature. He has so little to spare here, surely he doesnt have to track him like a bloodhound...?]
Before all the wests leave
It's all he really has drilling through his head as he mingles through the expanses of the island, trying to hunt down certain people. Surrounded on every side by water with an agonizingly close distance to the beach at every turn, Solomon would rather be back at home than here with his focus shot under who knows how many stressors.
But there are a few he wants to check in on, and Day is one of them. So he's trapsing through the sand, looking particularly grumpy as he looks up and down the surf, the streets, trying to figure out where Day is without resorting to a magical signature. He has so little to spare here, surely he doesnt have to track him like a bloodhound...?]