Blacktail Deer Plateau I know it's dire my time today

As usual, Siqsa couldn’t stop himself from getting into trouble. Yea he had healed from Flicker ruining his neck, but his head remained downcast from the healing. It force his head to remain forever low, his neck a cliff drop from immense and impressive shoulders. Nearly two years old, the wolfdog should have found it easier to be in the pack, but in fact it felt more ghostly. He had his run in with Ruenna, who offered him pristine clarity with how things ended up being in the pack, but it shouldn’t have had to come from her. Kavik and Liri has duty to tell him this stuff, yet he hadn’t seen them since he had joined. Like fuck, man.

But it wasn’t it his fault? Wasn’t it his doing that prevented him from being intergrated with the family? He felt his turmoil brew with the thoughts, and conflict as it was, posed no answers. Maybe it was best he kept his distance from the rest of the pack; he couldn’t get his shit together enough to even have a regular conversation. He didn’t even know how to have a regular conversation. That wasn’t something he was good at, in the slightest.

And there went went the merry go round, his decision to stay away from the very folk that would help him heal, or atleast recovere from the childhood that forced him to mold into the disaster that he was.

Walking along the shoreline where he had originally met Kavik, the semi-teen semi-adult kept a solemn gait, his heavy sway almost in rhythm with the light gusts of the autumn’s breaths. Dark navy obsidian ripples as it came to and fro in contact with the air’s resilience. Garnet orbs stayed downcast as the Devil released himself to his own demons.