Ouroboros Spine I am that is

He felt like he had completely wilted — which, in itself, was a wilt-worthy fact. Goldhawk had been disappointed with himself for letting misguided levels of loyalty bring him so close to death, certainly, but he hadn't been suicidal. Then death had promised warmth, and Goldhawk had wanted it so much. He still wanted it. Just peace. No thoughts at all.

Kyron (or was it Goldhawk?) was right: he was wallowing in his self-pity. Mm, he agreed in a low voice. It's more than a tad pathetic, isn't it. He had become the very pinnacle of what he had no time for — a weak, pitiful defeatist with no pride.

He didn't even have a home.

Urgh, the wallowing. It was intolerable.

I'll toddle off... somewhere. In a moment. Bit knackered, wot. He was leaning lightly on Kyron but didn't realise it. Thanks for the saving an' all that, he added. He was pretty sure he wasn't actually thankful at all at the moment, but his father had taught him to mind his manners.