Broken Boulder no, i never sold my soul

post 666

Somehow, he had adjusted in the slightest of ways to the constant ringing in his ears; enough to hear Delight's frantic approach, at least. He rose shakily to his paws, realizing Zamael had left some time ago. He didn't know how long. For a moment he was still, quiet, blinking as he wondered how he had let that slip by him. Ah— Delight. Remembering his purpose for standing, he crept from the den slowly.
Oh. It was— oh. His focus centered on the pup and he swallowed hard, chest aching. It had been so long since he'd— oh, were they always so small and helpless? And so— no, no, they did not always look so lethargic, not at this age. That's not right, He blurted in a voice slightly raspy from disuse, frowning, and a moment later remembered Delight existed. His gaze flicked to his friend, guilt flashing across his expression, but his attention was drawn back to the pup.

This reminded him of something— something important, something he kept tucked away in a box somewhere in the back of his mind, and just now he regretted the fuck out of that decision. Again, he remembered Delight, and his gaze turned sharp and questioning— this was his child! Unfortunately, the words didn't come out quite the way he wanted them to. What'd you do to her?