dated to July 3rd, the day Jac left (a few hours earlier) :3 outside the Mansion, around 11:00am--sorry for the wait, my brother moved in and things have been hectic
--?0 words--
The fire-eyed hybrid had never, ever expected his life to come to this. Still reeling in a state of non-reality, Jacinto found himself continuously trying so hard to believe the fate that had been passed to him, take in what really was true. Never had the peaceful man pictured himself as one to commit something as horrible as adultery, or manage to get Io pregnant. Still remembering the apology in her eyes, the look of fault written so bluntly on her pretty coyote face. Yet truly, it had been the lanky coyote's doing, having been the one to jump into the mess first. Now what was Jac to do?
A promise had been made, so quickly on that day of the Berlin's reappearance, to be there when his kids faced the world...To protect while she carried them. So suddenly had he turned his back on Omni, on Inferni and his family....It was too horrible to think of, as the coyote lounged under a large tree, sorting his options as an exasperated hand ran through his messy ruddy hair. Newborns, without their true father. It was walking away, leaving them behind. Sickening as it was, the Lykoi felt he was doing the right thing. Cinto had made his mind up, and given a promise to be there. But Inferni--How could he tell the leadership? How can he prevent letting down Helotes?
Sitting outside the Mansion, Jacinto had found his thoughts at something of an impasse, having his choice set but his heart in another place. Already, he had hurt Omni, already he had put them at nothing, becoming the cheater of the pair and the one to act on impulse without his head. The room had been avoided for the last while, until the time came to leave; the things would be gathered along with his son, and that invisible and immovable luggage of guilt.
To any passerby's he would seem to be sitting disinterested, legs crossed and eyes dull. Huffing softly, the Lykoi stretched, lanky arms stretching to the sky. Tipped upward was his muzzle, calling out for one he knew, one high enough ranked to let him go, and a good enough friend to understand.
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