King Elk Forest Each and every day hiding from the sunshine

He pulled up his grey shoulders in a shrug. Why indeed. Just to die, he supposed, like he should've done moons ago when he still had the chance to die for a good cause. His weak frame and smaller stature often got him sympathy from others. They wanted to help the poor, sad and mute ghosts that still wandered about without a family. Without anything really.

He shook his head. The cold made him numb, especially the scratches around his legs from traveling through brush felt like they weren't even there. When she reached closer he lied perfectly still, round eyes looking up at her. Why did this always have to happen. They didn't need to help him. Now if he were to stay there the poor loss would surely blame herself for not talking him out of it. Could he even rest if he did something like that to another? The answer was no. His frame wriggled before he tried to stand up, weakened from his travels and the cold that had sunk into flesh and bone.