He felt tired, so tired, like he had been standing forever, his head throbbing harder every second. The conversation, if you can call it that, was taking as much of a toll on his psyche as the anxiety was on his physical capabilities. Looking at Oliver with unfocussed eyes, the Avalon felt his breath rattle slightly as he sucked in air, breathing out and back in again too quickly; even though they'd stood still for a while now, he felt like he had just sprinted a mile. But his mind still felt reasonably clear, and when the small wolf spoke again, Drestig managed to tune into his words, A tiny, sad smile spreading on his lips. The way he spoke... it was so familiar. The voice, the tone, the formulation; Ollie... He had cared for this boy once, wanting him to do well - there relationship hadn't been nearly as close as Galley and his, certainly not a tight friendship, but care, definitely - he still did, though it felt strange now, after so long without a thought.
Oliver's last comments made Drestig's smile grow a little, turning warmer, though his eyes were still sad; "And I'm sure you will..." He said in a low voice, as much to himself as to affirm the younger male. A painful nostalgia was beginning to grip the aging man, and at the same time as he longed to reminisce, he felt a strong fear that giving in to these reemerging memories of his past would tear him apart; After all this time... Everything had changed, and yet nothing. here he stood again, before the ivory painted boy, like he had years ago, on that night... I can't give in!
The subtle change in Oliver's posture brought Drestig's attention back to him, eyes narrowing. Though the change was small, it did a mighty difference, the fearful demeanor so characteristic for the small boy replaced by an air of confidence and strength, making him appear much larger than he was. The cold smile send a shiver down the bigger wolf's spine, his own posture naturally changing in response to the other's, shoulders lifting in dominance, weight distributing defensively. Then Oliver spoke again, and his voice was just as different as his bearing, every aspect of it that had just made his older friend so wistful now changed to make him sound like... GALLEY!
The change itself was disturbing enough to throw the ebony man off, but his words; Parted ways, PARTED WAYS! They resounded in his head, bounding off the inside of his skull, the throbbing intensifying, making him wince, squeezing his eyes shut for a second.
- Blood, rain, gore! The bitter taste, the horrid smell! Eyes, accusing eyes, distraught, deep brown eyes -
He shook his head, fiery eyes blinking rapidly to try and chase away the images in his head. He had to focus now, especially now, he couldn't break down and leave himself vulnerable; You have to stay in control! But he was losing it, and the fight to remain calm enough to stick to his stance and keep focus on Oliver's movements took all the strength he had; so he simply stared, frozen, not answering the question.
Word Count: 537
My mind is my own ”I'll say whatever I want to!”