He missed her, rather dearly. She had been his first teacher, the one that set the little seed into its journey to be a flower. They hadn't spent too much time together since she had returned to Abaven, and as much as he wanted to return to his studies with her, he didn't seem to be able to do it. So he busied himself with other things, searching through the lands for herbs, teaching others, learning from strangers. He sought out teachers he had never met so he could avoid one that was right there in his packlands, and he couldn't understand why. As he grew older the more he seemed to think of her as....as competition and he hated it. There was a singurlar head healer position, and he seemed to think of it as the "end goal", that if he achieved that rank everything would be better again. He would feel confident, he'd finally find his place, and he wouldn't feel so low. And he hated it. No one knew how often he awoke in the night, shaking and fearful, unable to fall back to sleep. He walked away from meetings, from hunts, from gatherings because he just couldn't handle it. And when he could? Well, something must be wrong.
He needed her help so dearly, he didn't know why it was getting worse! It all came to a head when they brought Finch home, and he had freaked out and panicked and left because he couldn't handle it. He had left his sister, in good hands mind you, but he left her reguardless. He was finding it rather hard to forgive himself for that. At first, he had thought the sadness and disappointment in himself was because he felt like they didn't think he was good enough. And yes, that may have been the initial catalyst, but now...now he just hated himself. That night hadn't been good to him, he kept waking up with a silent cry, blue eyes wide and tired, as he struggled to get his breath, entire body shaking. He couldn't keep going like this...he..he needed help. So when night turned to day, and the hour became respectful, he lifted to his paws and moved to find her. The tiredness hung onto him so tightly, painting into his soft brown tones and giving his eyes a darker look. He needed help...he couldn't keep doing this, because soon...soon they would all hate him. "A-aunt H-h-harmony?" He stuttered, his voice wet with sadness as he stood near her den, calling out to her. If she couldn't help him, he didn't know anyone that could. "I-i n-need help..."
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