Noctisardor Bypass We're only kids who lost our way

He listened. To some, silent Cry staring into something intensly meant he was plotting, beginning another hunt for either something, or someone. He was an omen, a shade that none knew much of until they found themselves beneath the mercilesss fangs he beheld. It was just business.
But this woman had unhinged another sector of the assassin that he could only attempt to mold back to his primary mentality. The pain behind Gwen's words proved how stranded she was, how ever single day-

"You awake knowing you lead a pack which was meant to be shared. You hang on strings, Gwen, dizzy, and spinning endlessly. You will never know how reliable the ground is, if you clutch to those strings. The ground will not let you fall, though he who crafted the strings, will."

Love was the puppeteer, mastered in its chlling trade, a gilded promise of a grand future, only existing to ensare those who dare to test their fate. Gwen was not ready for such a dance.

"Snipping your strings will not mean you have given into the pain. It means you are strong enough to know you have to let go of something that simply wants to hold you back."

His icelandic gaze was usually stoic to those he was face to face with, but under the right lighting, near imperceptible care could be seen. Personally, he would understand if she disbanded the pack. Though it would be selfish, he could understand selfishness. Selfishness preserved one's self. Though he wouldn't feel pleased about being a loner again, he was capable of moving on.

"Disbanding the pack and giving into your pain only go paw in paw if you let them, Alphess. Weave your own emotions how you see fit, and leave attachments where you command them. Otherwise, they will consume you. Only then, will you be a failure."