'I guess we now know how.'
Atticus reached out mentally to the only one he knew was far too proud to admit his current fear.
His proud voice came almost immediately. 'How what, bond?'
'How Whisker has survived this long despite his playful and nonchalant attitude.'
Ozeroth scoffed. 'It's all simply bravado. He's trembling on the inside like a little girl.'
'You're one to talk.'
'What's that supposed to mean?'
'I'm your bond, Ozeroth. I can feel your fear.'
'How can you feel something that does not exist?' he shot back instantly.
Atticus didn't argue. Everyone had their way of dealing with fear.
Whisker's was a sudden mood change. Magnus sank into his own world.
Ozeroth's method was denial, he was far too proud to admit otherwise.
'I'm not different.'
The quiet of the walk had given Atticus time to reflect. He realized his own retreat, conversations. To keep the mind busy. Keep it from drifting toward the storm ahead.
