Blackfeather Woods I'm starting to notice a sound

Fire at the core of the wraith, eating away at his insides, swathing him in white-blue flickers. In his mind he is still stuck in the past, pinned against dirt dark and compact with dried blood, his humiliation on display for all the other captives. In the present, just as he had then, he dissolves into agonized sobs. Taikon's voice does not reach him. His snarls fade into whines, and he curls in on himself as the memory comes to its close, leaving him as he had been all those months ago. A broken shell of a wolf with a bitter, clawing ache deep in his belly and between his legs, abandoned to the elements in the wake of his destruction.