12-10-2007, 10:53 PM
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As much as Phoenix tried to stay himself, he knew he was not acting like the same wolf that he was two months ago. His life had finally began to seem like a worthwhile experience. Children, a mate, and friends throughout the land. In the time since being placed in charge of Storm he’d lost weight, he’d lost three of his children, and he’d lost his peace of mind. Pretty soon the “piece of” part would be redundant. As much as he knew the idea was silly, there were times when Phoenix actually did wonder if the world was out to get him. Being paranoid was no fun; he needed some time to relax and think things through but as of yet he hadn’t found a chance to get away, even if just for a few minutes. He wanted to remain friends with Phasma, he really did. He didn’t want the burden of leadership to take away one more thing from his life, but it seemed like this was inevitable. Shocked, he watched her walk away. It was not until she was almost out of site that he realized that she was actually leaving for good. “Wait…” he said, weakly—too weakly for her to hear him. This was not how he’d pictured their “talk” happening. He wanted to air his grievances, but he’d expected her to as well, then hopefully they would come to a meeting of minds and newfound understanding of each other. Instead, he’d attacked her and she’d responded with anger and left. His ears flattened as the burden of his job increased a hundred fold with the departure of the wolf he had hoped would help him run Storm, instead of this tragedy. Sighing, he turned away to return to the one place where he still felt happiness: the side of his family. It was too late to go after her now, and even if he did he didn’t know what he could say at this point to save the situation. “Dammit, Gibraltar,” he muttered. “What were you thinkin’?” |