Sex: MaleSet minutes after this thread.
The sound of the small creek kept him afloat, kept him moving onwards, its familiar rhythm the only thing which kept his hot rage quelled. His small rounded teeth poked out over his lip as he grimaced, tail held stiffly behind him, his fur bristled with agitation. How could they still get to him. Hadn't seen them for months and then at the mere mention of them it turned him into this, brought the fear and self-loathing bubbling right to the surface as though it had never been pushed down, as though he hadn't been healing at all. It was bullshit. He wanted so desperately to be stronger, to let it go, but no, he just had to prove them right over and over that he was weak-willed and a coward.
He spat at the creek angrily in the heights of frustration, jumping into the creek with stomping paws to splash through it to the other side, where he carried on marching with no real purpose except to get away from whatever horrific conversation his mother was being forced to have. Perhaps he should have stayed and offered his solidarity. HAH. Fuck that noise.