curbside confessions

He does naught, seems deafened to her pain, casting her aside and she slumps, scraping the earth with her belly, ears pulled back, eyes downcast. If you choose to stay here. Should she, though? Does he want her, will he ever want her again? Or is she simply... something he has lost, and does not care to find again? She trembles, curling in upon herself and her only embrace is that of the earthen floor, welcoming her in ways that he does not, her muzzle bowed between her folded forelegs and tucked up taut to her breast. "I shouldn't have come. I should leave you alone. You deserve better than this... than me... deserve to be happy." She rambles, speaking of him not not directly to him, her head swimming, and somehow she lurches to her feet, graceless, stumbling a few dizzy steps before she pauses and shakes her muzzle vigorously, only discombobulating herself all the more for it. "I'm sorry," a slurred mutter, and she staggers a few steps towards the borders, fully intending to leave but she has to pause her shaky strides, catching herself on a nearby tree and leaning heavily against it, her breathing heavy, bile rising in her throat that she only just subdues. For once, Laxago has utterly lost hope.

Table by Azil