Was there anyone, anymore, that Columbine could trust?
He counted himself in the rankings of creatures who'd let him down, and with a blistering shock of recognition the dark Hastati realized he was entirely alone. Not in the physical sense - there were plenty of canines in Inferni, almost too many at times - but in the spiritual sense, Columbine came to the rather sobering conclusion that he would ultimately die alone. It wasn't something he thought he'd ever have to consider - after all, he was young and healthy and volatile, but the dusky man had been alienated from everyone he knew, including the retreating back of his closest brother, Helotes.
Where had everything gone wrong? When had Helotes become the enemy, marked as high as Kerberos in his twisted mind? Columbine's face, previously etched with rage, had become thoughtful as he watched the retreating back of his brother. He would not say anything, and he would not follow, but both brothers knew a deep and irreparable chasm had split between them, one that had been threatening to burst into existence since the dusky man first step foot on clan borders. Had it been so long? How had so much changed in such a short expanse of time? And yet, Columbine could not blame himself, though in the little, ignored spot of his heart that housed the former protector he knew where the problems originated.
Columbine shook his head, turned his back in the opposite direction, and melted like a shadow into the inky night.
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