Cerulean Cape Live, Love, Laugh

How many ways will she break me? he wondered, eyes downcast but ears pricked as the pair spoke. It seemed unfair to him that she should be allowed to be so unhappy, even as he realized that it was ridiculous to feel that way. He'd been hurt, and every mile he travelled with her and her lover splintered him, fractured him into a million different wolves that were not Dagfinn Ansbjørn III.

His heart had begun to feel so twisted and ugly that he was sure it showed on the outside.

But somehow, Grayday could still stand there and talk about duty and righteousness. Dag was too tired to hate him for it. Too tired to hate anything, too tired to be angry. He just wanted it all to stop.

So he padded up on Amber's other side, doing his best not to ignore Grayday while also not interacting with him. The words he spoke made no sense for now, but Dag filed them away for later examination.

The water felt good on his paws. For now, that was enough.