Moonspear Yes it's into the fire we fly and the devil will burn

Gannet hadn't realized how much this had been killing him until right now, but it seemed like all of his pent up frustration came to a head, and he had needed to let it out. It wasn't a particularly impressive display, but for the taciturn boy, it was quite a lot. Gannet wasn't the type to worry about his rank, his status, much of anything. But there was one thing he wanted, and that was to belong. To be a part of something, unconditionally, and to bond with those who he was a part of it with.

Yet all he heard, all any of them ever gave him, was 'try harder' and 'do more' and 'prove yourself' and then maybe. Maybe they'd let him belong. It was like he was ramming his head against a rock and expecting it to give way, and it had been slowly eating away at his peace, replacing it with a burgeoning sense of discomfort. Even Hydra, who was his closest friend here, he knew felt this was proper. Prove yourself. Try harder.

But this was all he had. This was the hardest he could try... there was nothing else he could do. He'd already given up everything for them, accepted their decisions, lived by their rules, and supported their land. He wasn't questioning his past choices; he knew those were made. He wasn't saying he wished he hadn't... he was asking why that seemed to mean nothing to them.

He listened as Charon spoke, and slowly he wilted, submitting with a meek lowering of his head and ears flattened back. He was never going to do enough, and if what he just said didn't change that, there were no more words to say. "Ok." Acceptance, but still his mind turned with the implications. So he glanced up, and with a polite dip of his head, made to depart.