You are worth fighting for. You know we've all got battle scars.
The northern lands were so desolate, so bleak, so empty... So much was missing in his heart. A bite had been taken out of it, left to rot and to be pecked by birds. Honey-dipped irises were blank, dulled by hidden pain, one that he had never spoken about, trying to keep his head held high for his queens, and for his peers. When he would be found alone in the north, his head would be held low, honey-dipped irises filled with tears of regret. He had given in to the disease. He had let it control him. His breathing hallowed as the thought of her fearful face. Her pleas. He had ignored them all. Who was he? Not even he knew anymore. He was no brother... no pack member. All he was... a shell of his former self. Where was the young summer child he once knew roamed within his consciousness. He was lost at sea. Everything was lost. He had given up trying to hold his head high. There was nothing left to fight for.
He would leave. For the good of all. The summer child didn't want to break anyone else. He didn't want to shatter anymore hearts, no more bonds, no more promises. He would exit the lands of Alacritia, and leave no traces. Honey-dipped irises had only been held low to the ground, endlessly only seeing the white of snow, trudging through a field of frozen flakes. No words were said, and no thoughts were heard, except for one. "No more... I'm n-not worth it... I-I'm not w-worthy of a-an-anyone..." In his throat choked the words, struggling to be forced out of his inky lips. Frozen tears were plastered to his cheeks, inky lips sealed tight by frosty air. To his nose came no scents, to his ears came no noise. Nothing. The world was monochrome, only black and white.
The bittersweet between my teeth. Trying to find the in|between.
Beyond the Tortugan lands he was now, slowly moving throughout the lands. His mocha pelt stood from the snowy and bleak landscape, insides gnawing within from hunger. He was done. It was time for him to leave. He paid no mind to the sibling who had been reclining nearby. Buried in snow his muzzle became, as he would slide onto his side, honey gaze fading. A scent finally would come into his nostrils, stinging at him. He didn't care anymore... what brother would neglect his sister's love and caring? She was here now... but it was already not worth it. His mocha crown would only move upward to take a glimpse of her bodice, honey gaze dulled. "I-I-I'm s-sorry..." From inky lips the words were forced out, choked with icy tears.
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