wc374
escape is never the safest path
Something called him closer, like hands reaching out and leading him without his notice. Arm in sling and eye affixed on the cold ground, Jefferson followed his feet in an unlikely daze. He was tired, troubled... The only thing he wished to do was to find a dark spot to sleep for days, weeks... too much was happening at once. He hadn't asked for all this when he'd joined this pack--a place of honor, friendship, apprentices--no, he was supposed to be Jefferson the loner, the independent, the warrior... and yet, he still remained there on those packlands much longer than he'd ever imagined. He'd never expected to stay so long, and yet he was still there. He had no explanation why. A strange alteration clouded his face and eye.
The warmth and glare of the blaze snapped him from his meandering daze, at which point his eye wandered up and he reached his good arm to scratch at the back of his neck. A few had already gathered... fortunately, despite his lack of knowledge of pack ways and traditions, he knew the time of the year and knew what it meant. Samhain was something he'd never taken an interest in; he had no ancestors to beg for mercy, or even remember. That had changed over the past month. His eye lacked the emptiness within from before, yet his presence felt warped, confused... Jefferson finally took the time to recognize those who had gathered--surprisingly, all of which he'd previously met--and offered a weary, makeshift smile when Tyrone recognized him. He nodded in a vague greeting but said nothing, remaining apart from the other members, and found a space somewhere at a small distance that gave him the time to sit and think. His back was placed against them, and his eye wandered to gaze at the sky. His grandmother, possibly his father... they were now the 'ancestors' he was to think of and remember on days like Samhain. He hadn't the slightest memory of either of them, let alone any of the other countless family members he could lay claim to. It was depressing, yet he was not depressed; he was simply... dazed, and desired no attention from his fellow members for the time being.
