Our paths are like a boomerang

The Warlord gritted his teeth. Anger rolled through his body in waves, and he pressed himself forward. Closing the distance between them. Bast shot him a warning glance, and one he ignored as he lifted a paw to jab it to her shoulder blade. "You're telling me you feel nothing? No rage, regret, sorrow or hope?" He growled, poking her harder. Anger and fear warred together fear that his future could lie down this path. "That there is nothing you would do to change your future, your path?" He snapped his muzzle together, inches from her coat. This Deathbelle frightened and angered him. He NEEDED her to be better. To feel something. To find hope. He knew he needed to step back,that he was volatile and angry and he had hurt Deathbelle enough. But seeing her defeated form enraged him.

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't drag you back with me. Why I shouldn't shove you in Morts' den and throw puppies at you until you get it through your head that life doesn't need to end now. Like this? That Mortis still calls you Uncle. That you have family, despite your best efforts to leave them?" He was in her face, snarling.