It is said that angels don't remember what they are while on earth, they only know that they need to find someone to protect. To live out their lives to the fullest while on assignment.
Ever since Clay was little he had had these odd birth marks on his back; jagged lines that rand down his shoulder blades, they weren't' anything noticeably different, just seemed like empty space; like something was missing. His parents had been worried something was wrong with him when he was little but it never bothered him health wise. What bothered him was the odd feeling of not belonging, kids at school seem
Solitude.
Clay was used to it by now, the cold silence. He was used to the loneliness, where his only companion was the familiar song the ocean sang to the beach. Sometimes, if he listened hard enough he thought he could almost make out the words. But in the end even his sensitive ears couldn't decipher it, an old language that had long since lost the ability to be translated.
He dug his heels into the sand, watching the waves embrace the beach in a kind of never-ending dance. It always surprised him how lifelike the Animus could make everything. Sometimes, if he tried hard enough he could almost imagine he was on