Master The Art Of Observation

(0) See 'em running for their lives

"Atlas!"

His bright wings flutter for a moment, briefly caught off guard by the call. Turning his head to look back over his uniform clad shoulder, he softly smiles at his older brother running up the hill behind him.

"I was looking for you, Att." The brunet chuckles breathlessly, hand reaching up to rest on his brother's shoulder. There's a moment of quiet as the brothers look out over the land below them, the sun rising right in front of their eyes.

"I just thought I'd take one last look at the sunrise, who knows what'll happen today." The younger boy's lips quirk up into an unsure smile, falling to a frown moments later.

"That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about." The serious tone coming from Wilbur's mouth immediately grabs his attention, causing him to raise an eyebrow in question. The brunet clears his throat, feet shifting at an almost unnoticeable degree.

"I was thinking that maybe you should go home- at least just until the war is over!" Atlas pulls back at his brother's words, hurt shining in his eyes at what he's implying. That he's weak, not needed, dead weight holding everyone back. Wilbur sees the emotional shift within him and is quick to reassure the black haired boy.

"And I already know what you're thinking, I promise I don't think you're weak, and I promise you are not holding everyone else back. I just want- no, I need you to be safe. I cannot risk your life out here."

The silence between them is filled with tension, but no more needs to be said between the two, Atlas will return home to their father within the hour, and will only come back to L'Manberg when it is safe for him to do so.

"I've already written to Dad, he's expecting you." With one last firm squeeze to his younger brother's shoulder, Will leaves him alone to pack his belongings and say his farewells.

Atlas stands still atop the hill, hair and wings swaying with the wind as he stares out at the people below him, running around and preparing for the approaching war. A deep sigh escapes him as he spreads his wings, gliding down to meet with them.

The first to spot him is Tommy - certified younger brother in both their minds - who runs up to Atlas in excitement, his own smaller wings flapping behind him as he gestures wildly along with his never ending words.

Atlas does his best to listen along to the blond's ramblings, but cuts him off eventually by grasping his shoulders.

"Tom, I'm going home." Said boy comes to a standstill at Atlas's words, face scrunching in confusion.

"But, this is home. L'Manberg is your home." The black haired boy falters slightly at the younger's sentiment, only to remind himself of Will's firm stance and the fact that his father is waiting for him.

"I know Tommy, I'm sorry, but Wilbur wants me to go back home to our Dad. Just until the war is over." There's no placating the younger, as it seems the attempt only angers him, his fists clenching at his sides as he huffs and stomps away from the shorter boy.

A heavy sigh flows from his lungs again, frustrated with himself for upsetting Tommy. His own wings twitch in agitation as he turns in the direction of the tent he shares with Wilbur, slowly gathering his belongings into a heavily used duffle bag.

He pauses as he pulls a folded up photo from the crease of his sleeping bag - Wilbur, Tommy, and himself perched on a log overlooking the land they recently claimed behind them. Atlas sits in the middle, held in a playful headlock by his older brother whilst Tommy attempts to free him.

Setting the precious memory aside, he continues to rifle through his belongings, deciding on the essentials and stealing some of Wilbur's amenities along the way.

A rustling of the tent flap alerts him to another's presence, a sniffle from behind clues him into who may be lurking at the entrance.

"Hi, Att." The distinct childlike voice confirms his suspicions as he spins on his heels, coming face to face with the blond haired lad again.

"I shouldn't have walked away. I just- 'm gonna miss you or whatever..." Tommy scuffs his foot along the dirt floor, head downturned to avoid the older boy's gaze. His words trail off in embarrassment and there's a split second of silence before he is caught in Atlas's warm embrace.

"I'll miss you too, Toms. I'll come back as soon as I can. I promise." And if they can both see the tears in each other's eyes, neither mention it as they part ways, Atlas in search of his brother.

He soon finds him, sitting upon a log near the fire and tuning his guitar. Rather than interrupt, he seats himself next to Wilbur, close enough to feel their shoulders brushing. It's peaceful for a serene moment, as the brunet finishes tuning and begins to play whichever chords come to mind.

The instrumental accompanied by the song of nature surrounds the two brothers, calming them both as they share an unsaid farewell. It's a few minutes later that the two come back to reality, waking to the world around them as the sun reaches its highest point.

"You oughta be off now." The eldest Soot stands, offering his hand to Atlas as they both blink away tears. As they both stroll over to the makeshift stables of the revolution, a sinking feeling makes itself known in both brothers' stomachs.

The young black haired boy mounts the already prepped horse, slowly riding it outside of the stables and halting it at the edge of their territory. He wistfully sighs, eyes closing for a moment before he gazes down at his brothers by his side, Wilbur stood with his arm around Tommy's shoulders.

"See you on the other side, brothers." And before any of the three can change their minds or say anymore, the young Soot is gone, his horse galloping to ensure he reaches his father's home sooner rather than later.

The two others remain in the same place for longer than necessary, watching Atlas leave until he is no more than a dot along the horizon. Wilbur sighs, something deep and troubling,

"See you on the other side, Att."