Dad! Wait for me! Little Gilbert had escaped the watchful eye of his older brother. He's not sure how he did so however, that is not stopping him from following his father. Gilbert follows after Prometheus as fast à his chubby cubs legs will carry him. FREEDOM! You'll never catch me! Father led the way and Gilbert followed his footsteps a little behind so as to not arouse Romes worrisome Gilbert senses. It is true! Prometheus has a Gilbert shenanigans radar. GILBERT WOULD REMAIN A FREE BOY! You ain't taking him alive!

At some point his father disappears and Gilbert can't find his tracks. They're gone! Papa? Where'd he go? Little Gilbert is hopelessly lost within the fog and ON A FRIGGING SAND BAR AT THAT! Maybe this was supposed to be his fate, a consequence for directly disobeying his fathers orders. Gilbert had reaped what he sowed. Now he is condemned to death. A fitting punishment for such disobedience.

Uncertainty clouds his mind. Gilbert runs anywhere and he soon finds him at the oceans edge. As a cub he does not realise the danger the lurked beneath the waves. Gilbert saw a new plaything and not what the ocean truly was. He's too little to swim so he splashes in the shallows instead. Splish splash he's taking a bath! Even though a salt water bath isn't good for the fur. Oh, well.

A stronger wave pulls him a little from the safety of the beach. Now truly with the ocean shallows rather than the edge of the beach. Gilbert is out of his depth. He really shouldn't have left his brothers. Thankfully Gilbert floats. The small child makes an attempt to swim but he only gets a little closer to the beach. Not yet close enough for his feet to reach the sand. Gilbert didn't know he was potentially on deaths door.

He has no idea what's going on other than how terrifying it is. To be small caught between the waves with no way to reach the ground, such a plight the young Frei found himself in "Vati!" (Dad!) he screams shrill and loud with much horror and panic in his voice. Daddy will come it'll be OK right? He has to hear him, he's gotta otherwise, otherwise he he'll died. Sinking beneath the waves he'll float to the bottom to have his corpse picked clean. That, that can't happen. It wouldn't right? Daddy help me! He doesn't like this the jostle of the waves, how far he is from the beach, the lack of a bottom that he could see. It looked so beautiful but realising how big and deep it was made him sick. Gilbert didn't know if his father could hear him, didn't know if he'd make it in time.

Stay. With. Your. Brothers. A simple command, no more. Ensuring his brood remain safe and unharmed from the throes of the unknown. It had been a long year to begin with.... from rage to hate and grief. Prometheus Frei had difficulty some days not believing the fates were jeering and taunting at him from behind the veil. Mair's passing had left him wracked with guilt. One the iron titan wove close to his breast. The youngers mother even more so; raising cubs without a Mother was some days, beyond the once Mountain King's grasp.

so why Gilbert Frei, why must you take that as a challenge?

A beast of only 3 years and his children were committed in attempting to ensure his mane gone gray and white in just a matter of weeks if they had their way. Something is off, and he can feel it in his bones. Stomach churning while his weight shifts mid step. Roaming the thick and heavy fog with dismay, his ears cock forward. Cerulean gaze narrowing at the stillness in the air, like nature was holding a dreaded baited breath just for him.

For good reason at that.

"Vati!"

In a split second, his heart sinks; would else be wrenched from his chest were it not tucked away so secure within his breast. "Gilbert!" The thick and heavy Germanic voice booms; it does not resonate with the sheer blanket of fear that envelopes the lion at the sound of his child's plight. No, instead he's moving further down the sand banks towards the beachy shore, trying to gleam through the fog for his son. The salty sea breeze smacking him in the face, sand flies up in wake of his abrupt pace. "wo sind Sie?!" (where are you?!) Rome barks, fighting the panic that weaves itself like a snake about his limbs.

Not on the shore - look to the sea.

No,no,nononono.

He glowers, scouring the water's surface when he spies the small bundle flailing. Scheisse! He couldn't have been stuck on some rock or up a tree, fighting off a badger... no, instead the Ocean itself seems eager to whisk the babe off; which might have been an easy remedy if not for the cold and callous terror the Frei possessed of water. Cue every slew of swears and fury spilling from his inky lips, gritting his teeth as his muscles freeze - he has no choice... and for a moment shuts his gaze before sprinting into the water. The first biting plunge ripples into his very bones and blood, growling while he struggles to clear his stormy thoughts and focus purely on Gilbert. Attempting to close the distance between them in the water.

Spirit's don't take him. Not another....

"oben!" (up!) He grunts, ducking his head under the water to try to push his son up into the thick confines of his mane.

OOC note: I am rolling dice for this so - finger guns- good luck lmao

Oh, no. If little Gilbert doesn't drown something else might get him first. T'would be a shame if something perhaps a leviathan of the ocean came and ruined Romes' rescue attempt. Gilbert was a sitting duck maybe a shitting duck too. It felt like an eternity flapping about between the waves before a voice booms through the fog. He knows that voice it brings the promise of safety, love and warmth. Gilbert could barely see. Knowing his father was there brought hope but it would mean nothing if the sea decided it needed a sacrifice. Gilbert shrieked "Das Wasser!" (the water) his lungs burn from all the shouting but he can't help it. Panic has gripped him completely. It's cold, wet, and is trying to shake Gilbert to death. Oh God's, let Rome get to him, please. He is too young to be taken.

Each breath he takes is getting harder. The cub is struggling now to keep above the water. It threatens to drag him to the abyss. Help him. He narrowly discerns his father coming towards him. It's hard to miss that grey yet, Gilbert almost does. Far too preoccupied with retaining his head above water. He feels his father before he registers anything else. It seems so surreal. Eventually, Gilbert hears Rome. He's slow to recognise what is being asked of him. Up. He knows that word. Yet, as his dad tries to succeed in the rescue it happens. Something is coming and quickly at that

Teeth caress the end of his tail and Gilbert is dragged further from his parent by something, something big. He's easy pickings, however, it seems more intent on toying with him than devouring him. How nice of it to decide let's beat the cub but not give him the pain relief of death. No! No! Papa! Gilbert beings to sob full of fear and horror as he is gradually dragged off like a sack of potatoes. Vati! He reaches for Rome but he's too small for his legs to reach far enough. Why couldn't he have been bigger!? Gilbert starts to hyperventilate? This, this cannot be happening. No! Don't take him away from his papa! You can't! Gilbert is frozen, no paralysed with anguish and shock. IT'S JUST A DREAM, HE HAS MADE THIS ALL UP. Unfortunately, for poor Gilbert, this is remarkably tangible.