[Alexander] Primitive, Isn't It?

Alexander · 12-12-2024, 02:13 PM

Bellamy had proved elusive. Just when Alexander suspected he was on the trail of his mother it had disappeared again, leaving the male frustrated and hurt. Bitterness had begun to stir in his heart, directed at the Raiders, even if it wasn’t all deserved according to his mother. But had things not escalated, had his mother not wavered due to those bastards, then she’d still be here with them. Bellamy had broken, a shadow of her former self. It started first with the death of his father, and grew further with the Raider’s ire with Haydee and the pack. In the end, Bellamy had felt the bulk of the blame still remained with her, as the pack’s founder, as a leader who had not shown Haydee the right way to lead. She blamed herself for everything… and he feared the next time he might see her, it would be as a corpse, just as the last time he’d seen his father.

His white tipped, cream tail lashed in frustration, head dropped lower between his shoulders as he stalked forward with ears flicked back. His body language spoke of his sour mood and his eyes reflected it. He was angry, and he didn’t care if it was right or wrong to blame the Raiders. They certainly weren’t as blameless as they liked to make themselves seem. And if they were able to be assholes, they why couldn’t Ethne, or Polaris, or whatever the fuck the pack decided to call themselves? Sorry, asshole role was taken? He shook his head with a grunt. Fuck it all… he didn’t want to try and play nice with them anymore.

He wanted them to fuck off, and if they decided to continue to be confrontational every time they saw one of their wolves, then Alexander would happily return that energy. Out of respect for Hay he wouldn’t approach first, but given the opportunity he wouldn’t lie and say he wouldn’t go for them just for talking shit.

A feminine scent invades his nose and green gaze flicks up towards a woman his age. She reminds him of a feline, edgy, sharp, with an aura that wasn’t exactly inviting. Alexander exhales and returns his gaze to the land in front of him. Angry and bitter as he is, there is still that part of him that doesn’t want to lash out at others, if he can help it. But he teeters so close to the edge, the fur on his body prickling, almost like something is crawling under his skin, that even a single word felt like it could make him snap.

"Speech," 'Thought.'

table coding by bunni ♥

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