Noctisardor Bypass He'd never upset you, never forget you

First came an absolute beautiful feeling of relief. Then, then like acid guilt burned its way hot and heavy up his chest. It singed the furrow of his brow and made his shoulders tight and uncomfortable. He wanted to sink to his knees. He wanted to cry and scream and beg. He wanted to run.

But he did none of those things. Instead he took a shuddering breath and another. Small little whimpering gasps as he fought to control himself. He called upon the sea, the strength of his granmes. He remembered granme roz telling him he had to let others make their own mistakes and he too make his. How she had loved him despite everyone always needing something from him. She had loved him simply because he existed.

Etienne shifted. Drew himself up to his unimpressive middleman height. Pulled his paws from the dirt. Shook them off and met the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen with his own golden ones. A flush of heat deep seeded and hard leapt to his stomach and he swallowed. He was not ashamed of himself or how he thought. Yes he felt that way.

I would not say it, if I did not believe it. W'en was de last time anyone 'as asked me if I was okay? W'en 'as anyone taken care of me. And dat be fine. I like to be de one caring.

He stepped forward his tail lashing behind him. Shoulders tight and set rigid. The ocean in all her madness peeking out of his gaze.

I 'ave been attacked and forced to care for otters. I 'ave been all alone while you and 'eda do wutever it is dat you do. I 'ave been pus'ed to de side for Fiona to take care of Druid and yet i am looked down on for leavin' everyone juat assumes dat I be fine. Dat I will take it and take it. I give and i give and wut do i get back for my troubles. 'Eartbreak, abuse, anger and malice. I get told dat i don't know wut i be doin'. I take it all. And I am tired Anselm. I am tired.

Etienne felt tears gathering in his eyes but he continued. You do not know wut it is like to be de one dat can feel all de troubles. De 'eaviness in de air like de furs of de prey. De loud noises and de constant neediness. De come to ask me wut is best plant to cure dis. Wut will 'elp my c'ild. And den w'en i fix dem it is tank you and gone. I am needed, but I am not wanted. I 'ave always been needed. De only wolves dat ever loved me just for me is my granme Roz, an' Suzu. Not for wut I can offer and do for everyone.