Like I'm made of glass. Like I'm made of paper.
Go on and try to tear me down...
As the smoke clears, I awaken
And untangle you from me...
--Vlarindara's Theme; Demi Lovato - "Skyscraper"
<blockquote><i>October 16th; Early morning, after sunrise; Cloudy; 33º F.</i>
The broken man that was supposedly Angier Lyall dragged himself through the Drooping Willows. His eyes, so keenly focused on the forest ahead of him, were blind and unseeing; the expression on his face was blank and the nose at the tip of his muzzle was lackluster. The man who had once been the defiant second-born and envious yearling of Bertram Valley had been reduced to a wraith of the words and promises that he had failed to fulfill. Winter would be just around the corner, he knew, and when he stumbled into the presence of the color-changing willows, the sensation of relief was the first to surface before giving way to the sting of anxiety and panic.
Perhaps he would not be able to find his way back. Suppose he had gone too far or maybe even gone in the wrong direction completely. He scrambled to right himself. Elettra's scent wafted his way, followed by Remy's. With their perfume being the most recently rediscovered, aside from Jaysyek's, he was fortunate to have been quick to place them to memory. To be able to <i>remember</i>.
His ears drew forward from their positions at the ruff of his neck and he scanned the forest around him. <i>Salvation,</i> his thoughts cried out in his skull. <i>Salvation is coming. She will take care of me.</i> His breathing quickened and his senses heightened as he <i>hopped</i> and <i>lurched</i> further towards Lady Elettra's domain, or at least where he thought the wolves of Willow Ridge could be.
He and Vlarindara, he reasoned with himself, never stood a chance to begin with. She had been taken with Borden from the start and he had greedily and <i>happily</i> loved her when his brother had made no more claims over her. They had seemingly been blinded by jealousy and doomed by Angier's selfishness. Now, with her disappearance, maybe he could find himself again. Maybe he <i>and Elettra</i> would be an entirely different {and successful} story altogether.
Elettra. The hope of her protection, her grace, and strength willed him to move forward. He tried to focus, to keep his mind intact, to keep the past where he had tucked it away. Willow Ridge was his only option now. His chance for redemption, a refuge away from the pain that had shaped him into the wolf he had become. His nose twitched and he stopped in his tracks as soon as one of the pack's everyday paths crisscrossed with his own. He was close.
<b>"ELETTRA!"</b> he cried out. He could have easily been mistaken for a pup calling out for his mother. His features sobered from the suspense that had gripped his trembling being and his eyes wildly darted from the spaces between the arched trees to the edges of the stones that surrounded him. <b>"Elettra! You <i>promised!</i>"</b> Hurt laced his words, but while he could do nothing but blink as he awaited for someone's approach, he allowed himself to feel. To become aware of the hunger in his gut, the ache in his back, the fire in his throat, the weakness in his limbs. The despair in his voice. <b>"You promised you'd be here for me!"</b></blockquote>
Are you watching closely?
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