“No,” I said, “But I want to know where exactly do you go for you to end up smelling like it? I mean, you go for a run and get all sweaty and dirty and disgusting. But no scent has ever been this disgusting. It’s like you ran on s**t, sat on it, then rolled over.”
He was about to speak, but I interjected, “And don’t bother saying you’re just running around the forest. I won’t buy that.”
He looked at me for the first few beats, thinking for an answer. I watched him as he opened his mouth, then closed it back again like a fish breathing underwater. Except that the fish would probably talk more than Atlas if it was given the chance to speak.
I sighed as I watch him struggle to answer, so I waved my hand in dismissal, “You know what? Never mind. I’ll just get your clothes.”
“Dione,” he fin
