Lion Head Mesa you bring out the worst in me

How dare she.

HOW DARE SHE.

@Ramesses had allowed Charles' bride, @Lilitu, to leave the pack and go back to her homeland at Redhawk Caldera. Every time Charles went for a stroll, that rock stood out like an eyesore to him. Get hit by a damn meteor, assholes! The fact that Lilitu was not there showed everybody else in Akashingo what a laughable failure Charles was as a Prince; no children, a runaway wife, a drunk...

It wasn't that he was particularly attached to Lilitu. Sexually, women meant very little to Charles (other than, of course, proving that he was a big strong man) and in his time in Akashingo, he was slowly coming to terms that perhaps he was not a deviant entirely. Perhaps it was okay to be into men. There were all sorts here at Akashingo; men, women, something in between, hard-to-tells, confusing-as-hecks. He had not slept with the Pharaoh himself, mostly because that would be the ultimate admission of guilt, err, preference, and besides, what would it prove? That it was okay to be gay? Besides, Pharaoh was... nice... which was exactly what didn't appeal to Charles. Like, he knew himself way too good to know how he would mess that up. Make Pharaoh mad accidentally on purpose. Make Pharaoh a not-nice-guy because that was what Charles was into (not that he'd ever admit). Pharaoh didn't seem like the kinda guy who was fun when he was mad.

There were some things that the coywolf simply did not manage to get rid of. One of them was his penchant for hurting himself. It was just like he felt he deserved it, even though he totally didn't think he deserved it. It was weird and hard to tell what the eff his problem was. Certainly, the servants had noticed that he was hurt inexplicably at times. Thankfully, nobody had made a comment on it.

Charles was drunk most of the time, these days. Berries, berries, FASTER, MORE BERRIES DAMNIT; it could frequently be heard shouted through the halls of Charles' luxurious rooms. It was a perfect combination of overindulgence in the luxury he had not earned but merely received, of trying to forget who he was, and trying to punish himself (this latter thought mostly passed him by when he was throwing up the contents of his stomach someplace).

But, oh yes, how dare she.

Charles considered going after Lilitu and finding her in her perfect little happy-go-lucky home place that Pharaoh had allowed her to return to. Maybe bring a few guards and show her what happened to runaway brides. What was wrong with this place? What was wrong with being by his side? She didn't even have his children, even though they tried, and it hurt Charles more than he would ever admit to anyone. The fact that she was walking around un-pregnant, childless, in itself confirmed that there was something wrong with him.

And fuck damn it YES there was a lot wrong with him, but Charles wouldn't let anyone else fucking say that to his face as clearly as his damned wife had.

It made him angry.

And desiring of berries.

He smacked his lips, an angry, frustrated frown on his scarred face.

MORE BERRIES! WHERE ARE MY G-- FUCK DAMNED BERRIES?!

Just in time he stopped himself. He didn't even remember what servant he had asked for the berries. He didn't even remember rightly so if he had asked them. He was drunk and angry and simmering and stewing in that anger. Well, it was their own fault, for making him a prince and giving him so much power. Everyone could've predicted how poorly Charles would use it; he himself especially.