Neverwinter Forest She danced on my grave and now i'm cold inside

It had been days since Sitri had taken the queens life and the world had yet to settle down. He had rose colored glasses on and then he had taken them off, and now everything was chaotic and colorful and he didn't know what to do about it. He was hanging on the edge of sanity, lost echoes digging and screaming in his head. The wound on his neck hurt when he moved, and the numerous other scars he now had, just added more paint to the canvas that was Sitri.

Red eyes gleaming as he walked among the trees. He did not look one way or another, did not care where he stepped. If someone wished to attack him so be it. The former slave had no direction and no center. He was adrift in a tidal wave of emotions and he didn't know how to deal with them. For the first time in his life, he had risen up against the chains of adversity and he had fought and won against the abusers and the users of him and his own. And now that he had no chains holding him back, that he had no queens whispering in his ears, he was alone with his own thoughts and he didn't know how to handle them. Not one bit, so he walked without purpose and he dreamed without sleeping.