Golden Glade in a house that's not a home

Collision was unashamed, though exhausted, of being a loner. He had spent years in a space of purposelessness. Something he would not digress to a perfect stranger.  Furthermore, the feat of discussing his emotions was lost on him. A typical male struggling with feelings. A cliche.

 There was something to be said about the scarcity of others. It was almost comforting, yet somehow, equally daunting. The vacancy in the plain meant he was all the further from a pack. All the further from ending the persistent self-sufficiency. The questioned remained: would finding just any pack be the answer to his timeless lack of duty. No. He couldn't just go anywhere. Risking another Reneian Empire fiasco would only delve him deeper into the throes of abjection. 

 Wherever. At least that was an answer. One that didn't carry the same weight as Collision's mantra of 'nowhere'. Inked lips turned upward into a ever-slight smile. An amusing thought to himself. Perhaps he would begin to claim the same. 

 "Don't suppose they would matter at all myself," Collision held little weight here. His family had all been those he housed himself with. There was no blood to mar his name, "Unfortunately I'm a lost-soul myself. If there was a destination I doubt they would take me back," As if he hadn't tried to return to the area he had once called home. They were all one. Perhaps, for him, it was for he better. Too many broken promises. 

 "Does it get to you? The quiet? I find myself adjusted one moment and miserable the next. You might be the most interesting thing that's happened in weeks," A chuckle--though tepid found itself coming to life. The confession, likewise, was grim. If this was the highlight of his week he needed to get a life. He needed to get one anyway.