Firefly Glen i'm a hot mess

After his spat with Riley Charles returned to Firefly Glen feeling broken. His body felt battered, even though he'd only been thrown to the ground. He had a few scratches where Riley had bitten him initially before he'd touched the ground, a few patches of disheveled fur that looked more dramatic than they were, especially on his face. There wasn't much blood to be seen; mostly Charles felt battered, which made sense considering he'd been physically thrown around before his brother stopped and chased him off.

More than the physical encounter the harsh rejection of the encounter stung in Charles' mind. Everywhere he went it felt like he wasn't good enough. Wasn't good enough for Leta compared to Osiris, wasn't good enough for Osiris to be part of his pack, wasn't good enough for his brother to even give him a fucking hug or something. He just wanted to be loved, but it seemed like nobody would ever want him. And his screaming-friend had left the pack, too, to top things off. At least he still had some friends here — he thought of Bronco, Lunaria and Dhalia — and that was more than he'd ever had back at Easthollow.

It was hard to be positive as he dragged himself back into the pack, across the borders, and made his way to dig up a nearby cache because he was starving to boot. His gait was nowhere near his usual energetic trot, but just a slow and tired walk that mirrored how battered he felt. He just wanted to eat, sleep and forget about today and about his stupid brother and his stupid family.