Brother Dearest

 Vitus was...well, he didn’t quite know what he was. It was a confusing mess, that was for sure. He hated that he couldn’t put a name or a word to any of the things that he was feeling. All he felt was red hot frustration, and more and more fuel was added to the fire the less he could understand. Perhaps it was his fault. He didn’t much care about emotion, and that seemed to be his downfall. Or perhaps he just couldn't understand it. It wasn’t for him, just like talking wasn’t. But that seemed to be a more physical thing lately the more he tried too. The way it hurt, the scraping each word seemed to cause...it didn’t seem to be an aversion anymore. That frustrated him too! He had just decided he would try and talk more to avoid misunderstandings, and he learns that it hurts him too? With a deep growl he plopped himself on the bank of a deep hotspring, his eyes squinting through the steam to stare at the bubbling and shifting surface. Life certainly didn’t want to be easy to the Armada’s….or maybe he was just being emotional. Oh, he didn’t know! He growled, the sound coming out gravely, the feeling like sandpaper in his throat. His nose wrinkled and his ears pulled back as frustration twisted his normally stoic expression into one of anger. With a snort he slapped a paw against the water, hoping the heat and the motion would help expel some of his pent up aggression, but it did little for him.

"Burn Baby Burn"