Blackfeather Woods like ghosts from an enchanter fleeing

Unexpectedly, Taikon launches himself into Zephyr's path, stopping him in his tracks. It's not what he'd wanted — but he can't make his limbs move. He's stuck here, as if the pale wolf is meant to plague him further. Maybe he is. The thought brings bile up his throat, and he swallows, rendered speechless. His eyes sting in a familiar, much-hated way, a reaction that doesn't quite reach his heart. He doesn't know why; there is no sadness in him. He only wants to be done — he doesn't want Taikon anymore, not truly, not when the man is a poisoned prize. But he can't make himself say that. All he can do is stare, eyes wide and shining with tears that he doesn't feel, tears that will never be shed.