The pair of heathens nestled themselves amongst the entanglement of shoals and dunes, of bracken and endless, unwavering sea, of undulating waves and posturing gulls, of eternal shells shifting and scorching on the bed of sand and sun. Most of their wandering, following (always in pursuit of something, anything, their avaricious claws could snag and snare), had been claimed by the annals of curiosity, by the bright, looming depths of inquiry and intrigue. Erebos had volunteered himself, among many in the swelling crowd, to be of assistance towards cleaning up the dead lands – but what that entailed had still been left in an enigmatic twist. Prior experiences with helping any higher beings had been a bit of a hit and miss: exploring ships with his friends and being silly had diverting (and they’d earned things; little charms that still dangled within a few twisted tassels of his mane), delving into unsolved mysteries and murders (and then becoming all the more disturbed when those he knew had been left flayed and destroyed), or the latest cataclysmic plunge of deities against mortals. He’d seen Gods fall. He’d seen enemies brutalized. He’d seen friends and foes deceased, sprawled against the earth, some barely mourned, only scrutinized for small clues and discoveries left behind. He didn’t know or understand what Kisamoa truly intended; if everything was a ruse, a falsehood, and they’d been swept into a bestial trap, or if he truly meant what he said and merely needed their abilities.
 
But the boy had always been willing – he had too much of his mother’s genial, gallant blood flowing through his veins (sometimes virtue and valor rolled right off his tongue, off his lips, off his frame) to ignore the pleas and requests for help. The soldier simply didn’t know what it would all entail. Bloodshed, hopefully, Orsino mused through their connection, and the scion snorted, deep and low, trying to hide the rogue smile tucked along the side of his mouth. While neither beast, neither infidel, had any need of begging for the God’s invocations (the prince already conducted his watery enchantments on almost on a daily basis), they came for the knowledge, for the sagacity, for the divine wisdom of the unknown to whisper in their ears, to pull them towards desired directions. Both stood off towards some rocks, not hiding, not garbed and veiled in cloaks or daggers, eyes narrowed, speculating and studying, merely watching, waiting for something to happen.
 
[Just here to watch!]

Erebos

i have nothing, but then the have is not as good as the want