Finding Your Balance

She is always with you She is yours, and you are hers It was like a switch in the Warlord. The rage swept through him, crushing away the tears. The endeavor that Art had made to bring him peace through looking at his love ones wasted. Sirius should have picked another to dwell on - Tamsyn, who had given him peace in the Hallows. Asla, who waited for him to be strong again. Briar, even Art. Another, any other.

He had ceased to listen to Arts advice, the rage built in him, rising to a crescendo and crashing through his veins. “SHE IS NOT MINE ANY LONGER. SHE LEFT ME!” he roared. Surging to his feet, only for his body to fail him as he landed heavily on his wounded paw. His leg gave quickly, and he almost crashed head first to the snow, breathing heavily.

There it was, the rage that driven him to hurt Tamsyn, to push Artorias to murder. It burned through him, and burned up just as quickly. Leaving him hollow and shaking in its wake. The battered and bruised and largely broken Warlord rose shakily to his paws. He looked to Art to ensure he had not hurt the boy when he jerked so violently, and sighed softly. “There is no peace for men like me.” He said softly.

"Speech"