He hurt inside, like Alarian had ripped something from his soul the day he left him alone in the mountains, and now there was a huge, oozing hole left behind. It took everything in him not to lash out at anyone in his presence lately, but he couldn't blow his cover that way. So when the pain got too bad, he fled the territory and sulked and in peace wherever his legs would carry him. Today, he somehow wandered into the familiar hollow and immediately regretted it. Why had he come here? All it did was remind him of a time when he didn't feel like his insides were filled with acid. The scents of his old pack were long gone from the plants and dirt, covered up by all the strangers that had wandered through this place recently. It was probably for the best, though; he didn't think he could handle picking up one particular scent without losing what tiny shred of his sanity he managed to cling to. Birdsong, grating and incessant, blared from above, and he flattened his ears and glared up at the creature within the barren limbs of the large tree he was passing. A low snarl left his chest, and satisfaction swelled inside him as the noise stopped abruptly and was replaced with the frantic flapping of wings as the bird fled. At least one thing was going his way today.
Shaking hands with the dark parts of my thoughts
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