Broken Boulder I believe in yesterday

@Alarian

His steps hurt, every movement and his muscle screamed in rebellious pain. This was a ghost, an ongoing spirit that developed and fed on his own troubles. Growing with every feeling of agony and throughout the weeks become a poltergeist. Despite every prick of his nerves, he knew this wasn’t his body. This wasn’t him. His mind was so conflicted, trying desperately hard to find himself. Searching through every nook and cranny within his head, but only found continual darkness.

His heart was slow and heavy.

He hated himself, or whoever this was. What happened to his graceful saunter and melodic tone? It was taken and hidden somewhere well.

There was no way he could focus on leading a pack, he feared his poor condition would worsen with the responsibility. But more so, he feared letting the others down. With a corrupted image he would only disappoint them, or even worse place them in trouble. After all the traveling and work they put in he couldn’t be the one to tear that down from his own irresponsible choices.

It was decided he had to tell Alarian, explain his faults. This was entirely on his shoulders and he cared not to burden the ones he cared most with his unqualified leadership. He sulked lethargically to his companion, his thoughts shouting his unworthiness. ”Alarian?” He croaked, attempting to get the others attention.

A beaten shadow of Lennon stood, ears hiding behind his head with fear.