swallow my heart whole and leave me to the wolves

I am so incredibly sorry this took so long. If you'd like to continue, that's totally up to you :)

 

The man had known loss, too. It was an odd feeling, knowing that someone else knew his pain yet failed to comfort, not out of the awkward situation it would create but that of, the boy needed no sympathy from a stranger. At least Charon was smart enough to keep to himself the consolidation he could technically offer, the boy had no wish for it. He simply nodded complacently, it did suck. It sucked really, really bad. 

Yet, as the feeling of budding remorse came, it went. 
“I am chosen for greatness,”​ 

The boy resisted the urge to roll his eyes, knowing it was a line that almost every self proclaimed big-shot tended to declare. Jackrabbit looked to the man, looking to him with a relatively hidden an are-you-serious? look; Charon was clearly very serious. It took a minute for the boy to really back off the idea that Charon, a no-shit type of guy had really just called himself chosen for greatness. The guy really didn't look like the kind to believe in prophecies or that kind of hippie wippy stuff, yet, looks (no matter how intimidating) could really be misleading. Well, that's what you think, sniggering silently in his head while remaining stoic on the forefront. 

The boy himself had thought himself Great once too, and yet here he was, running away from his problems once more. Yet, he did not remark on the misconception that Charon seemed to hold on to; the man could figure it out for himself, that he was just like everyone else, simply living. There was no ability to accell beyond the mootpoint of their existence, they simply came, did what they did, and died; the boy had come to realize. There was nothing out there or within that would ever bring their species to what lay beyond the prime instinct to survive. Greatness was something unfathomable to their kind, and unreachable even by the most victorious or the most decorated. None were Great, they simply did what they did that called for the common misleading idea that someone was greater in life than another; that was called the hierarchy system. 

Even more, he detested the idea of feeling cared for once more, and even the idea that the man believed he did not hold the ability to ditch his problems where they slept, and run for the hills. “It does if you run fast enough,” Eyes peered once more away from the man, as if the statement was not a reply but a declaration to himself. He would need to run fast, and as far away as he could. Peregrine was dead, and the longer he swayed in limbo between Redhawk and the rest of his life, he would be suspended between two eras; unable to move on. He could not simply stand still as the ever evolving world moved around him, Perry, he knew, wouldn't want that.