Things had not always been so bad. Such a thought is what he uses frequently to reassure himself, allowing the promise of a past that could become present once more to dominate his mind over any negativity. After all, even when there was so much uncertainty in the world, Charmeine would always have one constant that would never leave him even if he did lose his way. God. Loving and merciful God who had a plan for him, for all of them, and it had just been that he had been blind to such truths before in the naivety of his youth. Straying from the path of the light had never been his intentions and certainly, he was grateful for the efforts that had been put into his redemption. They cared about him, his mother and father and the staff too, they all cared deeply for him otherwise they would not have gone out of their way to show him everything that was wrong with him. Like the good little boy that he was, Charmeine had been the one to sit there and take it all in his stride, having already accepted his fate and allowing the well-intentioned reformations to occur. That was, of course, until someone else decided that they had had enough of the treatment that they were receiving.
Corrinne. Catalyst for change in his mind because, she had been able to get away from the place which meant that he had the potential to do so. Wrong as it was of him to grow agitated by their methodology, it was that action of reckless valour on his sister's part that had prompted the idea within his mind that things did not need to remain the way that they were. One night, weeks after her own departure, it came to light that he had done something bad again and it was in that instance where his mind had been made up in a spontaneous rush of nervous energy. Following in her footsteps had never been his desire, especially not when he had been told by staff of how disgusting her behaviour had been, but he could not help but come to the realisation that he was not happy at all and something needed to change. Tears welling up, salty and stinging, in his eyes, he had lashed out with unsheathed claws. Clatter of metal against the ground and the slosh of water as it spilled in tsunami fashion over the edge of the container were the last things that he could remember hearing amongst the angry buzz of surprised yelling. Voices seemed to melt into one orchestral cacophony, too much for him to bear, and he was well aware of the fact that if he did not leave, the crimes that he had committed in that moment would be contorted into sins that he needed to atone for. He was done with atoning. So, he had fled.
Out here, the air seems sweeter, more crisp and fresh as it materialised before him with his shallow breaths in a slight haze of early morning chill. Remorse has yet to set in within him which indicates that he has done the right thing, that God has not birthed sparks into his soul to set him ablaze in a pyre of guilt. He had stopped running desperately a long while back, primarily because his paws had started to ache from the over exertion but also since he felt that he had placed enough distance between himself and that place to feel that he deserves the ease of walking. Barely even registering in his mind, he slowly comes to realise that the sweet air seems to hold a different sort of taste to it, his brows furrowing at that. The stark difference in scents causes him to dig his paws into the earth in order to come to an abrupt halt, cautious golden eyes flicking back and forth in an attempt to scope out the area. Since he had lived his whole life surrounded by others that did what was best for him, it was incredibly difficult for him to adjust to the solitude that he had brought upon himself and he feared that he lacked the necessary techniques for survival. Still, instinct is what drives him in this moment, perceiving the changes in scent to be something purposeful and he can therefore not proceed any further, an invisible boundary, if you will. Contemplative hum rumbles from his throat, the boy stepping back as he moves to move along the apparent borders in an attempt to see whether walking around the region would be possible. The last thing that he wanted to do was inconvenience someone with his own presence on such a fine morning.