Neverwinter Forest though i walk the streets with my plastic feet

Mal was always a creature who craved touch -- perhaps deprived of it too much in his youth and trying to make it up now or something like that. So when Cam stopped and touched him, Mal turned towards him and return the expression because that's just how he was -- but Mal couldn't do so exactly, so it was more of just a touch to Cam's neck. And when Cam pulled away, so did Mal. Silently he was tired of the walls that had gone up -- everyone was trying to protect themselves. It wasn't what he'd wanted his pack to be like. Maybe he'd messed it all up.

Though he might say he hoped, Mal had pretty much lost most of his hope. It was a little empty. I hope so. -- I just.. I can't take more of this. It's too much. Far too much. I can't-- He cut off, shook his head. What did he do if he was just faced with more loss? Where was the bottom of this pit he was sinking in to? The world had done a good job of beating him down and so little had happened to build him back up again. Mal was just a broken man.

Quietly, then, I'm not good company any more. That was the truth, wasn't it? Maybe that was why everyone was leaving -- he just couldn't smile any more. They all knew. So they left. And then it made him think that maybe he just deserved to be alone.

Such a great train of thought. It didn't make for the most exciting of threads.