Arrow Lake i wish a cure for my cold tongue existed

for @Astrophel!

drakon found himself at the place where it had begun; the place where he'd killed that stranger at germanicus's command. the man had already been dead, of course. it was just a matter of time. but drakon had always made a point of foregoing that killing blow, for his own selfish reasons. easier to say they'd died from the wound that way. not from him. he wasn't a murderer.

he hadn't been a murderer.

it had been self-defense, until it wasn't. until the man lay dying. it felt like cruelty after that. drakon paced the shores of the arrow lake, frustrated. he didn't regret it, but some part of him felt... different. like a mirror with a crack in the corner. no matter where he turned his gaze, it caught at the corner of his eye and pulled his focus back to it. he couldn't seem to leave it alone.

he might have spent all day stewing in these thoughts, but fate had other plans for drakon today. as he often did, the young auxiliary began to climb the rocky rises surrounding the lake. drakon was normally quite sure-footed, but his distraction did him no favors. somewhere along the way, he slipped - and, of course, he fell.

he didn't remember much of what happened between then and the aftermath. one moment, only the turmoil of his own thoughts plagued him; the next moment was a jumble of pain and wind in his fur. and then he was on the ground, smarting in several places and thoroughly humiliated.

fuuuuuck... he groaned, rolling over. his head was bleeding. and his foot... fuck. fuck fuck fuck! he was useless to mereo now. they would never take him back.