Duck Lake Girl use me while you can, I’m all yours

the lake was not far from the yearling, who's lids had grown heavier the last few days than they had ever been -- it was the lack of sleep, he'd reckoned, but he'd run out of poppy seeds as quickly as he'd come by them, and sleep did not come easy to him sober, not since indra's death. what a mess he'd become. all in a few weeks. first, the constant moping. then the attempt at revival. indra wouldn't have wanted him to suffer. he needed to go somewhere else. and yet, when he did, it seemed everything got worse. he should've stayed. he should've made her stay. 

burden swells within his breast, paws heavy as he pads out of the wood. even in the spacious home he has now, marten struggles to breath. it catches in his throat and pulls at his tongue. and yet, his nostrils flare, and white steam pillows from his breathe. he cannot ail the demon that lives in his soul. grief. pity. anger. his head spins, eyes narrow -- no, is it the world that's spinning? the lake? surely it's just another tremor ready to knock him off his feet...

still. frozen. marten's entire being falls silent, for once, as the familiar silhouette of a man who he had long forgotten... or had he? he was so clear now, before him, marten doesn't doubt for a second that he knows who this is. we failed her, he calls across the frozen lake, letting his words echo across the empty landscape. indra had been wrong -- he was no better than his father. they were one in the same.