He was brooding again, this time much more heated then usual. He clawed and bit at a piece of driftwood until it splintered in his mouth. He could only imagine it was the spine of Epiphron or Chrsanthe. Chrysanthe in particular had earned his hatred over time. He spat out chunks of salted wood and snarled. They had taken everything from him. His home, his wife, his pride, all of it taken at once from right under his paws and for that he would never forgive his former family. He stood unevenly on the rocky "Sand" that littered the beach, the ice between the stones chilling him to his core as he wondered on. Neo was angry, he was always angry, but he chose his battles wisely, and he knew he could never take on one of his behemoth "Sisters" alone, thus he chose to side with the only pack that had the balls to give a well deserved spit to the face of Valhalla. Glaciem. The Ice King, as they called him, was supposedly as proud as he was brutal. Neo would take it upon himself to fan the flames of both his pride and brutality all for the sake of vengeance...
But it wasn't all hate was it? It wasn't all for the sake of watching his sisters grovel before him. He was alone. He had abandoned the Adravendi name in favor of his sisters had plunged a knife into his heart and would do anything to keep him from happiness, or so he thought. He had left it all for what was once Tortuga. Now a crater in the earth as far as his opinions went. But most of all he missed Luce. He missed the ivory dame with the lyrical accented voice, he missed his home.
His rear would collapse into the stones as he thought of her, as he remembered just how much he missed her, how much he loved her, how much she meant to him. He had searched high and low for her, scouring every corner of the continent and coming up empty. Empty, like his soul. He wanted to feel again, to feel something other than hate. To hold on to something real. But it was a lost cause.
Words words words
