Heron Lake Plateau Glam, glitz, guts and gore.

He could tell. He could sense she was angry, hurt, and confused. They had spent nearly every waking moment together from their birth to the day he defected, and she was still much the same. He, however, was not. That (almost) year alone had broken him... possibly beyond repair. She asked him questions, and he struggled to find the answers. "Away" probably wasn't going to cut it. "Because I'm a piece of shit coward" was unlikely to answer the other question.

Phox did not know how verbose she would tolerate him being, and he knew lip reading was more difficult than signing for her. At least that was how he recalled things. Ptero was still like a first language to him, although he would most certainly stall for certain words and phrases as he "spoke."

-I couldn't stand the thought of losing you, of losing any of you to that other pack. I was a dumb kid. I'm still a dumb kid. I thought, somehow, that leaving would prevent the heartache of watching anybody get hurt, so I ran. I ran and I ran and I ran. I joined a pack, and they were okay, but I never felt at home there, so I joined another. And another, and another. Never for more than a dozen days or so. I was so restless and useless. I deserted them, too.

-I even came back to the caldera once, but nobody was there, and I thought the worst had happened. I thought you were all dead. I visited Peregrine and Fox's graves looking for guidance or something, but I didn't find anything at all.

-I'm here now because I don't think I belong anywhere. I'd rather die than keep living without you.-