Mars had noticed that distance that Krystalle had put between the two. He did not wake up next to the woman anymore. In a way, it had been weird. The last time he had woken up in his bed, he'd almost expected her to be there but when he rolled over, his bed was completely empty. It was a surprise and Mars almost had to wonder f her and Bartholomew also got in a fight since he already knew that Krystalle had been pissed off at the Mars personality. He tried not to think about the woman and her anger, but that's really all that plagued his mind besides the missing Orin. He worried that she was not safe, and he always did have the urge to go out and try and find her, but her scent had faded from the packlands from now, and Mars found that trying to leave and find her to be tedious. If someone would accompany him he'd feel more inclined to try harder. He felt bad about her missing though, and he yearned to find her. He planned on leaving soon to find her though. Since no one else would try. Or maybe he already did try, that's why he couldn't remember the last few days. He remembered being at home with Krystalle a few days ago, but then after that, he couldn't remember anything. He figured it might have been a transition to Bartholomew that lasted a few days, but why would Krystalle still be acting off if they were all peachy-keen?
Mars sat on his porch this morning with his guitar on his lap, and he was sitting there, a cigarette in his mouth (he was stressed out because Orin wasn't back and Krystalle had done a good job at flipping Mars world upside down) and he would strum his guitar while he was smoking to keep a mood going. His sunglasses covered his eyes, and something that Mars was beginning to realize was that his hair was really starting to grow out because his bangs were starting to fall down in front of his eyes. He couldn't remember the last time he had cut his hair, and he was sure it wasn't him who cut it, but Bartholomew because of the fact that Bart liked to also keep his hair short. Mars could deal with short or long, which was why he didn't deal with the hair too often. Covered steel eyes would look down at his guitar as he continued to strum. Soon, his sheep would wander up to his porch and Mars would look out at the amber-eyed black sheep. He said nothing to the hoofed animal before it would approach Mars and give a baa to him. Mars just gave it a look and continued to play his guitar. The only break he would take from the guitar was to ash his cigarette or to tune the guitar that had gotten slightly out of tune over the days of it just sitting there (since he had not been around, both Hurricane and Bartholomew had nothing to do with the guitar) without being played or anything. Poor little white guitar. At least Hurricane didn't smash it or anything. Mars might have had a cow if he found his guitar smashed.
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