Bad moon risin’
#4
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He had long since resigned to the fact that he was a sub par leader, but as no one seemed to question it, he didn't have a good excuse for abandoning anything (and even if he did, it would still just be an excuse). Besides, there was no one else to take up the reigns and though most of him was convinced that it really didn't matter much if the pack fell to ruin, a sliver still held on to the duty and responsibility, even if it was more than a little half-assed. But it also seemed inevitable that he brought some harm to the members, what with that darker monster hiding in the back of his head, and the some days he thought maybe it would actually even be better if the fog just dissolved into nothing quietly than have everything explode in their faces.



Fine, he answered with a shrug. As fine as he ever had been and ever would be, maybe. Obligatory concern was not the same. Maybe part of him (there seemed to be many parts of him; he knew he couldn't keep track of them all) still appreciated the gesture, but there was a bitter voice that said no one would really go out of their way to ask or visit if they didn't feel like it was convenient or necessary. And even then, who really, really cared about his long and sad life story? But that's not what you came here to ask, is it?
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