a death in the family

[Arkham Lykoi]

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Arkham couldn't help but feel as if he'd done nothing right, even though he didn't feel as if he'd done anything wrong. It was some strange in-between place that shouldn't have existed at all, but that seemed to be everything he did. Irrelevant in the scheme of things. There was no reason for him to be at that grave, really. He had no respects to pay. He had never liked Andre. He had nothing to reminisce. There was nothing. This was nothing. The clan just a short distance away with the borders marked by skulls... they were nothing. And he was nothing. After all, wasn't he dead? Maybe he should have just stayed dead and left all of this behind. The only person that'd missed him had moved on, right?



But there was her voice again. He didn't turn around at first. The coyote considered just putting his hood back on and leaving, denying everything if she asked. It was better for her to think that he was already gone. Arkham had never wanted to hurt anyone, but he already had, so why make anything worse? Her footsteps stopped with her voice, caught in surprise, shock, disbelief, whatever else. Anger, perhaps. Grey head and giant ears turned slowly so that red eyes could meet blue. The ears flattened and he sighed. Hello, he said, quiet. He was sorry, but for some reason, he couldn't say that. He was sure she already knew, anyway.

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