[fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px; width: 425px; text-align: justify; font-size: 12px; text-trasform: lowercase][font=arial]There was always a moment in time when you wondered if what you were doing was right. A brief moment of hesitance where worlds seem to collide, throwing you into a dark oblivion; lost, dazed and confused you had no choice but to decide whether to go on or to retract. You only had two choices, yet in the end you had to choose. There was no third choice. You couldn't remain there forever. Life went on and so did you, living with past regrets and mistakes to the end of time. All because of one small decision.
And you always thought. You always came back to that time, pondering over whether something different could have resulted if you had taken the other choice. If you had decided to do something different, would it be better or worse? Some had it easy, some forgot instantly and never realized that their choices could have had much greater impacts when abandoned for others. But people like Ronan didn't. People like him always returned to those small seemingly insignificant moments of time, constantly pondering over them. And they started to pile up on your soul, weigh down on your conscious. Sometimes Ronan wanted to forget everything just so that he could start over, just so he didn't have past mistakes pressuring him onward to fix mistakes that were seemingly so.... unfixable. So impossible to make up for.
The ones who caved under the pressure had it easy as well. They could take a knife and press it to their hand, ending it all in one final blow. They didn't have to go on - they could forget in another sense. By erasing themselves and their minds from the world, leaving it and the people on it behind. They didn't have to worry about the consequences that choice would leave behind because they wouldn't be there to see it out. No more options lay before them, no more choices to be made. They were at peace knowing that everything had ended, and that they simply had to wait until the end of time to end it all.
It was the ones who went on to deal with more choices that suffered the greatest. They said suicide was for cowards, but Ronan believed it was the opposite. Life was for the brave. Life was for the strong. The ones who decided to leave were courageous for making that final choice to end it all, while those who remained behind simply were too afraid to end it all. Everyone was so afraid of death when in reality it couldn't have hurt more than life. Death silenced and numbed all the pain of the world weighing down on you. Death erased your problems. Yet Ronan was in that sorry in between, a man who wanted to die but couldn't, who had to go on and deal with more mistakes in the near future. He wanted to end it but couldn't. There were greater forces who kept him in the mortal realm, forced him to deal with his problems.
Forced him to make his next choice.
Ronan didn't belong in Sunclan, much like he hadn't belonged in Scarclan. Everyone here knew each other, loved each other like a family, while he hovered in the background like a perpetual stranger and shadow, watching people come and go without a word. He was simply useless here, much like in his former home. Nothing tied him down here... nothing expect Tasukete. That was why he had arrived here at first, and that was the reason he wasn't so eager and ready to leave this time. It had taken the german shepherd a long time to decide upon this option, and it seemed like he was stuck in that perpetual void-like state of mind for days now, moving forward only to quickly shift back in fear and worry.
He had two options. Leave or stay. Leave and he could find yet another place to live and have the chance to start a relatively new life. Leave and meet people who he could possibly have meaningful relationships with. Leave and see more of the world and try to find his peace with it. Or stay. Stay with Tasukete to protect him. Stay with the only person he could call a friend. Stay with a place he was familiar with, a place which didn't give him as much anxiety as others did. Stay and be safe with the knowledge that despite things not being able to get better... they'd stay the same. They'd stay relatively good.
He had pondered over it for days, weighing the pros and cons carefully and analyzing each individual factor with such fervor he considered even himself cynical. Yet he had finally came to a conclusion. He didn't belong here. He was an unimportant weight who, despite living here, didn't feel like he fit. And so, there came the second option from that one.
To leave like he had Scarclan, without telling anyone and disappearing into the shadows... or say his last goodbyes. He didn't know if anyone would even notice his disappearance. It's not like he spent a lot of time around the camp anyways. But he couldn't just leave without saying anything to Tasukete, couldn't blatantly abandon him like that. Despite the anxiety and stress it was causing Ronan, he decided to say he was leaving, and perhaps even explain himself if need be.
He stood somewhere off to the side of camp, a satchel at his side holding what little possessions he owned. His eyes were a deep inky black, a clear indicator to the troubles that forced his head into turmoil. It took him a while as he observed the camp, taking in the familiar setting and committing it to memory. But finally, the german shepherd opened his maw and called out, somehow making his voice less forceful and rough than it usually was. Perhaps it was the fact that it sounded so sad and pained, so broken and lost that it didn't come out like an order. "Tasukete?" Ronan's voice rumbled out, gently but surely as he used sound manipulation to move the words across camp in order to reach the other wherever he happened to be.