He was walking along the forest that he called home for the time being whilst thinking about how he had even gotten there. He had not noticed his slight personality shifts and sometimes he would discover he could not remember gaps of time. They were spaced months apart but still it worried him slightly. That was why he was walking that day. He was trying to figure it all out and part of him knew the answer. He would not know the name of Borderline Personality Disorder but he would know the idea behind it. He was impulsive, which was why he always did what he wanted rather than what was best. It was why he was a demon, the living hell of two of his siblings alongside his practically twin brother Cicero. It was both of them, and it had taken too long for him to realize it. It was alright though, because he loved it.
A mental health condition in which a wolf has long-term patterns of unstable or turbulent emotions. These inner experiences often result in impulsive actions and chaotic relationships with other wolves. It defined him, it was who he was and again, he was alright with that. The russet and brown man was plotting his next moves as he waded his way through the dark forest around the time of midnight on the night of the new moon. It was almost pitch black but he didn't mind the darkness. He was born in it, raised in it, and molded by it. He had yet to see the light.
