It was times like this when the dark male would think of the past and not the future; of the faces he had seen, the sights he had witnessed, the family he had once had. His childhood had been sordid, tainted and disturbed which had resulted in the cold, calculating beast he was today but there had been one wolf; one whom he had never forgotten and never could- his mother. He barely remembered her name, her real name at least. He had forgotten her scent, the colour of her fur, the texture of her body as she curled around him to shelter him from harm. He remembered her eyes though, those beautiful, warm and loving eyes; they were a mixture like his and whilst his sister Volkan had received the most beautiful of blues, he had maintained the grey of his mothers eyes.
Rhysis didn’t know her well, she came and fed them, cared for them and encouraged them to walk. She had provided food, warmth and been the first to smile at his existence. For all he knew, she might have been as wicked at the rest of his pack; perhaps she encouraged their growth for the sake of an heir, perhaps she smiled wickedly, instead of kindly, at the thoughts of destruction which her children could bring, perhaps she fed them so well that they would grow up to be the warriors they were destined to be, but no matter what the truth was, Rhysis missed her. Of everything they were forced to leave behind upon their exile, he wished he had at least been able to see his mother one last time; she’d probably forgotten him by now...
The thought mad him angry, so angry that a deep, evil snarl escaped his closed lips and pushed his canines to show. In an instant, the handsome male had transformed to a deadly and rather fearsome sight. Plagued by the memories of betrayal, loneliness and torture he felt himself getting worked up- the peace inside him had shattered.
He had to run... he needed to run.
So, he ran. With no direction in mind. He allowed his leather pads to eat the ground below him and he tore off back into the Wildwood, purposely coming too close to a tree or thickets so it would tear at his skin and fur- he needed to feel pain, buried deep within his mind, pain reminded him of home, it was so normal for him and he needed a dose of normal. On and on he pushed, slipping in and out of shadows, hidden within the darkness to break free into a moonlit clearing and back into darkness.
He ran. He ran.</blockquote>