Constantine spat out a mouthful of briny seawater mixed with blood onto the rocks below his feet. The tide crashed in and carried it away, spraying his clothes generously in the process. The fabric of his pants clung to his thighs, and Constantine peeled it away from his skin with an experimental tug. A few bits and pieces of broken shells fell out of one leg and rattled onto the rocks. Delightful.
He rubbed the corner of his mouth with the back of one hand and then leaned back to stretch his limbs. Several of his bones creaked in protest, but within seconds, he felt the stiffness in his limbs receding with every breath he took. The cold wasn't helping with his soaked clothes any, but at least it made for spectacular weather. The sun was starting to set over the horizon, and the halo of a
