Duck Lake know what you want

Now that was a change he hadn't expected. Beautiful and brutal, a combination that passed cleanly through many who weren't prepared for the thorns of a rose. Many succumb to the scent and the sight, unaware of the clean incision to their lusting gullet. Many, ignorant. Many, smitten.
Not he.
He knew to keep the pains of perish-borne petals at bay.

"How sweet of you. You must drink the nectar of their peace."

Vile violet, she was. Cry could feel masks fell, as he wore plenty throughout his own life amongst others. Especially when it came to being in a pack. To put on the postures, the voice, to act as if you enjoy the sheer being of frolicking with others. He just couldn't. Manipulation is the name of the game in packlife, using eachother to protect the other, to bolster your own life sentence. It was a thing imbred in their instincts, and the torn morals of this man kept him from feeling peace within the borders of his new 'family'.
Within himself.

He chose not to move that much closer to her, rather choosing to sit atop the edge of the minor bump of earth, too overlooking the vivaciousness of nature's banquet.

"Their last moments aren't very exciting."