What was silence on the outside contrasted the chaos within; he argued with himself to no end, tempted by the water's grasp to end it all. He was tired, weary: a loner who had somehow become a leader in a place he'd never wanted in the first place. Jefferson had warmed up to Phoenix Valley, being that succeeding Iskata and gaining the drive to run the pack well in her stead made his land and underlings his pride and joy... instead of the children he was supposed to have, perhaps. He could have ended it all right there and then, succumb to the cold ocean waves and numb the torture at last, but... he didn't. They still needed him--DaVinci couldn't lead a pack by himself. Addison couldn't afford to lose another guardian.
And on top of it all, he had three kids who were already minus one parent. Smooth move, Maluki.
The sounds in his head screamed and groaned, muting the sounds of crying seagulls and the rushing waves. The grief in his head was suddenly silenced, a familiar voice suddenly cutting through like a knife through butter. He suddenly became aware of the world again, the feel of the sand between his toes and the bitter, stinging chill of the sea on his bad foreleg. He should have known that she would have found him... she always did when he didn't need finding. As she came to stand beside him, the cyclops turned to simply look at her: his muscles, his expression, his being seemed to sag and wither, and within his single green eye was such a lonely, terrified presence that he could have been mistaken for someone else. He was afraid, troubled; he didn't know what to do next.
His gaze slowly turned again, desolately overlooking the sea. In the sky, the thick overcast of clouds rumbled ominously, threatening their presence. "I could," was the answer of a broken, shallow voice.