Ira had all but entirely forgotten much about Tark, his rapidly expanding mental capacity deleting what it had deemed was no longer necessary. Despite that it remained in the recent past it had became abruptly aware to Ira that he could no longer remember the parents he had felt a disconnected and dead nothingness for. “I have seen it Jinx. I saw it when those creatures,” Ira could not remember anymore (partially because Tokio can’t, aha) if they were wolves or not, besides him being incredibly young at the time it had also been relatively dark and gloomy out that night. “as they slaughtered the wolves, watched as they tore apart my caretaker at that time. I watched it from the shadows, I watched Tark die,” He had not made it seem like he had particularly cared at the time and maybe a small part of him didn’t, truly, but he had been comfort and familiarity in the alien-ness of this place. “I’m beginning to think that maybe Jace was right, maybe I am a demon. Maybe that’s why the ones that made me left me to die.” He refused to call them ‘parents’ in the same way he refused to really acknowledge that they had ever existed at all.
He glimpsed at her morbidly when she stated that he did not destroy her, having must have caught on to the trail of his thoughts. It was true, she was a resilient creature, but Ira could not forget the pain he had sensed that was well hidden within her shortly after she had lost the children that had been growing within her. Neither could he forget how feverishly he had wished to make it go away, to take it upon himself if he could have so she would not have to bare it at all. “I know,” He said because he did not want her to think that he was implicating she wasn’t strong when it was obvious she was. “No,” It was a panicked, breathless sort of command, brows furrowing. “I don’t need them to like me. I don’t want them too,” She, of course, was the one exception he allowed himself in his world. “I am used to it.” In truth, he was scared that if she somehow managed to find a way to lift it. Without it who would he be? What would it make of him? He didn’t have the answers and like any child would, clung to what was known as if it were a desperate and precious life line.
"Ok," Ira breathed, albeit with some reluctance to her suggestion that he stay. "Be careful, Jinx. Come back to me." Ira spoke softly, not wanting her to go without him for the fear that she might not return to him (since wolves had a tendency to do that to him).