OOC here!
Dalgina had been painting nearby. It was a painting of Fawkes soaring through darkness. He had a much fiercer cruel look to him in the painting than he did in real life. The kestrel was still pleased with it. The art held much of Dalgina's pain, but he thought he looked pretty cool, and that it reflected his true self quite well. A wily beast that none would dare to confront. Dalgina looked up when a strange golden wolf she didn't know passed her. He seemed consumed by something.
Briefly Dalgina debated the merits of ignoring him over satisfying her rather morbid curiosity. It hadn't faded, but instead had taken a fascination with the dark things in life, instead of being attracted to the light as she used to be. Dalgina placed her paintbrush down and followed after him, her pace much more steady than that of the emotional male before her. When he did stop Dalgina watched as he sliced into himself again and again until the tears halted. Does it help?
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