Cry Me A River

He knew it was pathetic that he lying here, before this woman, looking every bit as pathetic as he felt. He was allowing himself to regress back into his self-loathing, into the self-hatred that Desdemona had managed to push away upon their first meeting, but the self-hatred that she now renewed with his betrayal. It was obviously his fault. It always was. One way or another it had been his fault. Had he not loved her enough? Not doted her enough? Perhaps he had just been doing everything wrong. Whatever the case was, in his mind it would always be his fault. It was his fault that his family had been annihilated, and now it was his fault that Desdemona had abandoned him. It was irrational to blame himself for something that out of his control, but he couldn't help it. Who else would be blame if he didn't blame himself? He couldn't just write it off as fate. Someway, somehow, it was his fault and that's what he would believe for the rest of his life, up until the day he died. Perhaps even after.


It seemed the woman beside him didn't like very much the vague answer he gave her since she decided to get up, the rustling of her fur as she stood alerting him to her movements. He figured that she would just walk off because his anti-social way of being irritated her, but to his surprise, the woman placed herself before him, nipping gently at one of his ears before head butting him. Ivory crown snapped back in surprise, audits flattening against his skull, mismatched gaze coming into view from snapped back lids, pale lips instinctually curling back over his pearly dentures, brows furrowing. And then the smaller woman moved beside him, attempting to lay her much smaller head across his large back, looking rather ridiculous in her attempt. Stop being an empty shell of a wolf. As my pack mate, I now declare it is my taste to break you out of it. What?s your name? Before I start calling you White Grump. And then it was her turn to allow her azure gems to fall closed, completely trusting that he wouldn't reach over and snap her neck. Lucky her, Demonio wasn't a murderer. She really needed to be careful with those that she interacted. He stared down incredulously at the little obsidian woman, brows furrowing in confusion. He hadn't seen her in Valhalla before. A new member most likely? Demonio. Yours little miss daredevil.



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