Broken Boulder you have just decapitated shia labeouf

forward-dated to the 17th

It had been awhile since he had spoken to @Lily; mostly because he felt guilty, honestly. Alarian wasn't good at dealing with things like that, so he just... didn't.
Until he did. He had stumbled from his den as the sun rose, wishing he could sink back down and die right there— instead, he went for a hunt. Stiff and tired as he was, it had taken— awhile. Alarian hadn't even known he was hunting for Lily until halfway through, when he decided today was as good a day as any to confront that whole thing. Why not, right?
He was definitely going crazy, between... he paused, mentally going through the list of things driving him crazy at the moment, and decided it was way too long to type out. Lots of drama. By the time he caught a rabbit, he had pretty much accepted his fate. He was going to go talk to Lily, whether he liked it or not. Hopefully the rabbit would make it easier; people seemed to like being brought food.
So, rabbit dangling from his mouth, he set off to find his friend. Hopefully she didn't hate him as much as he probably deserved.

She was surprised when she saw Alarian. She was even more surprised when it appeared he was heading right toward her. She'd been walking the borders, looking for any strays in need of a home--and low-key thinking of Vilkas--when Ali caught her eye. The thing was, whatever closeness they might have achieved when they'd first met. . .it seemed to have slipped away, lately.

Lily assumed she'd pushed too hard. Dug too deep. She couldn't get through to him, and she preferred the company of others to hers. They didn't see each other much, anymore. She hated it, but the reality of it had began to settle in her stomach like a heavy stone--it was just there.

"Hallo," she said, a little bit surprised as she crossed the distance to meet him halfway. He'd been hunting; a rabbit hung from his jaws. Ali was a capable hunter, and probably was the main reason they were all fed. She was grateful for it--indeed, sometimes she wished for his skills. She got better and better, but she still had a long way to go.

How are you? What's up? Long time, no see? All of these openings seemed inadequate and prying, so she settled for an awkward, "Nice catch," and settled back on her haunches, waiting for what he wanted to say.

He wasn't sure whether he was relieved or disappointed to have found her, when he did. When he first saw her, he thought: maybe it won't be weird, maybe it'll be fine, and allowed himself a brief swell of hope. And then it was weird, and then he had a lump in his throat, and his chest felt heavy, and— why did he ruin everything? Why was he always stupid enough to hope that, somehow, everything would be okay?
Alarian dropped the rabbit at her paws and swallowed hard, carefully wiping the emotion from his voice. Thanks; it's for you, He paused, afraid his tone would betray him anyway. The Governor was, honestly, at a complete loss— where Lily had already accepted their crumbling friendship for what it was, Alarian had allowed himself the selfish bliss of denial. It hadn't seemed real until now; he hadn't wanted it to be real. Now there was no excuse to pretend it didn't hurt.

I haven't been avoiding you, Wait, that was a lie. I mean— I guess I have— but it's... Fuck, what was he supposed to say? 'It's not you, it's me'? They weren't even dating! Alarian sighed. I'm sorry I'm a shitty friend; you don't deserve it.

Her brows rose high, but she smiled, accepting the gift. "Thanks," she responded, looking down at it. She was about to grab it and move it to her den when he began to speak, in an awkward fashion, trying to describe his feelings. Lily's face morphed through an extraordinary range of emotions through this rant before settling on something relatively blank, understanding.

"It's all right," Lily said, not really feeling the words in this moment--but knowing she needed to say them. "You're not a shitty friend. You've had a lot to deal with. I understand." She didn't. Not really. She had no special vision into his mind; she had been left perplexed and hurt by the chasm between them. But now was not the time to voice those thoughts.

"You don't have to be sorry," she murmured. He did. And she wanted to hear it. Those words were music to her ears. But she didn't necessarily want to put him through this whole bloody mess of a conversation, even if it always was inevitable.

i'm sorry his panic attacks always come at the worst/least appropriate times LOL

Alarian could be oblivious at times— but when it came to things like this, he was hyper-observant. To the point that it exhausted him, and likely did more harm than good. Right now, it surely did.
He didn't believe her. All the times she had said such comforting things and meant them had stuck with him, perhaps more than she realized. They were words he carried close to his heart, tried to recall when he knew he was being irrational again, because he knew he could not always go to her for them. How could he not see the difference now?
Somehow, the lies hurt more than if she had yelled at him. Even though they were convenient for him— perhaps even for his sake. No, because of that; because he knew he had hurt her, that he didn't deserve such an easy escape. And she knew that too, and maybe— maybe her giving up on it meant she was giving up on him, too.
It was ultimately too much to handle. His lungs tightened as he considered the implications, breathing becoming shallow and uneven though the change was subtle. There was silence, but he didn't notice. He didn't notice because he wasn't there— his head was spinning a million miles away, and it was all so bright, and the world seemed so small from so far up, and he wasn't there.
But he was— part of him was there, breathing fast now. Somehow, through the haze, he realized he needed to try again to express himself. I— Lily, I— I— I'm sorry, Was that all he had? Pathetic. You don't have to pretend it's okay.

Her eyes narrowed as she stared at Alarian, who looked in the midst of an existential crisis. "Bloody hell, Alarian, are you all right?" she asked, her voice caught between crossness and concern. She didn't understand why they couldn't just have a frank conversation--why everything had to be so dramatic. Lily loved drama, but not of this nature.

"Well, it's obviously not okay, not if you can't speak to me without losing your head," she continued, a little unkindly. Still, she touched her nose to his shoulder, trying to bring him back to earth. "Stay with me, man. Come on, now. It's all right." Despite everything, the caretaker in her was seizing the reins, overriding any grudges she held against her friend and leader.

"What do you want me to say, Ali?" Lily asked, her shoulders lifting then falling quickly in a baffled shrug. "I can either lie, or I can scream at you all my grievances. Since the latter is no help to anyone. . .lying is all I have left. I didn't want to put more on your plate," she explained; "clearly, you have enough on it already without my whinging."

uhhhh i'm sorry about ali
apologizes for him 50 times

Maybe they just weren't meant to be friends. The sharp edge to Lily's words brought him back some; he almost flinched from her touch, struggling to calm himself. Of course he knew this wasn't ideal— as if he wanted it any more than she did!
Alarian had once thought to himself that the quickest way to earn his affection was to allow him to be an idiot without making him feel like one. He was learning the quickest way to lose it was to do the opposite. And that was all he could feel, now— like an idiot. He wanted to disappear.
Finally, he snapped: You could talk to me— without the judgment, for once, and maybe I'd be able to handle it. Maybe I'd want to tell you things. The words were half-snarled, but somehow raw; defensive, reactive, a clumsy blow not really meant to hurt, but to announce his own hurt, a grievance that had begun as far back as Lennon's disappearance. He was trying, in the best way he knew how— trying to find a way to correct his own mistakes, soothe the hurt he had caused. But maybe he would never understand how to do that, and maybe Lily would never even understand that she had hurt him at all. Maybe that was just how things were.

Game, set, match. 

Lily snapped. 

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Lily hollered back. His words felt like a slap, and her cheeks burned with it, eyes hot as they drilled into his. "Judgment?! When have I ever been anything but supportive of you? We have had one fight. . .one. And now I'm supposed to be the villain, here?"

Bile rose in her throat, the sudden urge to vomit overcoming her. She gagged, slightly, turning away as she swallowed. Her chest heaved with sobbing breaths. 

All she wanted to do was go home. Coming here had been a mistake. That much was clear. No one respected her, no one wanted her. . .no one here loved her, like back home. 

Here might have Korei, and Vilkas, and Lana. . .but home had her siblings. Mum and Daddy. Freddie. Oh, Freddie.

"Look, I'm sorry if I've hurt you in any way," she mumbled, looking down. "I wasn't trying to. I only wanted to help. Help my friend."

He felt something like relief, when she finally yelled at him— like he finally knew she was being genuine. It hurt, too, though. You're not— Alarian paused, thinking maybe it was too late; would she even listen to him?
And, oh— seeing her distress, he felt at once more grounded and more lost. Instinct tugged at him, urged him towards her, but he resisted it; she would not want his touch right now. Nonetheless, he abandoned his own words as she continued. Anything he could say, he reasoned, would make it worse.
Alarian lowered himself submissively to the ground, ears flattened, and crept closer to her; not near enough to touch, but close, if she allowed it. After several beats, he found something to say, quietly: Lily— Lily, you're not 'the villain'. I still love you— (Here is where we see Alarian forgetting that he has said this to Korei before, but not Lily; feel free to bite him) — and I've hurt you, too, and if you want me to leave, I will.
Saying that terrified him, because he knew he meant it; maybe these things were obvious. Maybe they weren't. He didn't want to leave— but he would, if Lily requested it.

She looked at him, wary, perplexed, as his demeanor changed from angry to submissive. Words that might have soothed her in another moment, another conversation, fell flat on her ears. And as he said. . . oh, god. He said he would leave. For her.

Didn't he know that leaving was the only choice he couldn't make?

"No, Ali," Lily said, shaking her head. She closed her eyes. "This is your home, your Sanctuary. You're the Governor. Even if I wanted to, I couldn't ask you to leave. And I don't. I don't want you to."

Lily sighed, afraid of the words about to spill from her mouth. "They all need you. Korei, Ulf, the pups. . . You're needed here more than I think you know." She paused, and opened her eyes again. "You should be asking me to go. But I won't give you the chance.

"I'm homesick, Ali; tired of feeling like I don't belong. My family was boring, sure, but at least I know they wanted me, truly wanted me." She dipped her muzzle, looking at the rabbit. "Thank you for the food. I suppose I'll need it. And for everything you've done for me. I'll miss you. . .all of you. But, I think, you most of all. You gave me a home when I didn't have one."

Lily touched her nose to Alarian's shoulder, feeling suddenly verklempt. Regretful. Should she do this? The words were already spoken, but words could be mended. . .

No. She had made her choice.

"I hope you can find happiness," Lily murmured. "Goodbye, Alarian." She dipped her head again, shielding her tears from his view, seized the rabbit, and trotted away without a glance back. No goodbyes to anyone else, no final tour of the place.

If she looked back now, she'd never go home.