Far Away

No...No...Not again...He'd lost everything...Again. First his family, Luna and his parents and now...now Desdemona. She had come back, broken and battered, but alive. He'd thought that they would be able to start their life anew, build from the ground up again. She had come back for a reason hadn't she? He thought it had been because she'd wanted to continue with their lives...but it seemed she'd had other ideas. How could she do that to him? What the hell had he done to deserve it...He'd loved her, cared for her, protected her....He'd made her his wife, had given her his seed so they could build their own family...Why?! He had been so close to having everything he'd ever wanted...But now he had nothing. Nothing! Desdemona had left him without a word and his unborn children were dead. Everything that had mattered to him in his life was gone. Forever. Forever...


He had no home...No family...Nothing. Nothing except...Chrysanthe. His best friend. But...how could he burden her with his tragedy? She was an alpha now and she had many responsibilities. She didn't have time to deal with his now pathetic life. But...she was all he had left now. The only wolf in Alacritis that he could think would care about anything that happened to him...And so the white man had abandoned what was once his home in Tortuga, taking his paws to the earth as he made the trek north, passing through many lands yet unexplored to go back to the one place he knew, or at least he hoped he would be welcome; Valhalla. It was funny how things played out. He'd originally been going to join Valhalla, but he'd met Desdemona and she'd changed his mind, steering him towards Tortuga...But now that he'd lost everything, he found himself wandering back to the place that should've been his home...If he'd gone with Chrys, could he have avoided all of this heart ache? He supposed he would never know now. Powerful limbs brought the porcelain man to halt at the Valhallan border, mismatched gaze dancing over the somewhat familiar landscape, haunches folding beneath him as he sat himself at the border, crown hanging limply between his shoulders. He didn't want to call out to Chrys, to alert her to his pain, but he didn't know where else to go...Demonio sat at the Valhallan border, hoping that his best friend would chance upon him...



Talk like this