For the best Disney princess ever. Word Count »
His mind was nearly made up now. Gotham had sat awake for most of the night debating what would be best, his mood every changing, ever fluid. Something felt different within his chest, something he disliked. Doubt, maybe. Was he frightened to go there? Not when he was Savina’s son, the first son, the one who could and would do what needed done. In the short term, he was expendable. Anu was not.
This was why he had spent the past few days around the Manor, reading when he could, soothing his nerves. The supplies he had gathered were few; a knife from the military base he called home, some medicine from his sister, some dried meat. He had been to AniWaya only once before, and knew the distance. It would not be long, but if those savages had not improved conditions for the prisoners, they would need subsistence to carry them home.
Yet he had not left yet, for his nerves were too high strung. He desperately wished to drink, but control kept him from doing so. Instead he sat on the porch, as he had the day previous, though he was now a two-legged, burly man with unkempt hair and a cigarette in his hand. While he had managed to stay sober, he could not deny the cigarettes now. Not while war hung heavy over his home.
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