Existential Crisis

OOC: None of you super happy maimy rapey people, please. Mildly maimy people are okay.


Angelus found himself standing atop a small rise overlooking the battlefield. He was surrounded by flowers and pretty things. Of course, here and there the ground was torn up, the flowers wilting, the pretty things speckled with gore, but if you overlooked it really wasn't a half bad place. How this plain had been chosen as the land's killing grounds was beyond him.


Turning from the scenery, the brute padded down the rise and began to walk across the plain, kicking flowers out of his way as he went. Not knowing what to do with himself, Angelus just wandered. He'd worked so hard to better himself in his home pack and now, not even three seasons after he'd left, he was once again just dicking around not doing anything of substance. It was almost as if he'd never left.


With a sigh, the brute sat down in yet another patch of flowers. What was the point of him? He had nothing. Was nothing. If he were to drop dead right now no one would miss him. In all honesty, he didn't know what to do with himself. Was it time to just go home and give up this silly little adventure?



"Speech"

He was waiting