WHILE I WAS BUSY WAGING WARS ON MYSELF —
It was like fog placed over his mind, thick like cobwebs. The numbness erupting through the ex-Underboss's body like venom yet that silence in his gut, the quiet and...empty.
drip. drip. drip.
He blinked, head groggy and muscles sore yet weak. He felt so... alone, so fucking alone. When was the last time that fucking anger wasn't strangling him? Suffocating?
Lucantine Wyres, for your unspeakable acts of treachery against your Family, and the Cartel as a whole, you will be stripped of all your titles and your rank as Underboss, and demoted to the rank of Prisoner to serve out your wrongdoings. The words crashed into his numbed existence, ripping him from his blissful ignorance. It wasn't the anger that had broke the direwolf, it wasn't the beast's constant grip on his mind, fearfully driving the male to behave in wreckless ways. No. It was a fucking grudge against one of the few he promised to protect. As those words swarmed his mind, it was like the cobwebs were ripped away, everything that had happened flashing like firecracker's in his eyes. And then the stinging. The fucking pain all over his damn fucking body.
That fucking noise. That fucking noise that proved he didn't fucking succeed. He was fucking alive, his attempts to finish it were fucking moot. He felt the burning in his eyes as he growled, rising to shaking, bloody paws, blood dripping from nearly every reachable surface on his body, long gashes, deep bites, everything. He had tried so hard. He tried so fucking hard. If he wasn't so fucking stupid, wasn't so-
He was ontop of the stairs, pink eyes hazy and body unsure with it's standing as he swayed on his paws, dripping blood. Tears dripped from his eyes as he snarled, his self-hate so fucking deep and raging, it would overwhelm any who could sense it. It overwhelmed him. He took a shaking step forward, planting the large, clawed paw gingerly down. But the blood flowed too thick, was too slippery and down, down, down fell the proud direwolf, hearing his ribs crack, his horn even snapping at the end as he rolled down the steps, coating them in his corrupted, filthy blood before he landed, rolling slightly. And the beast didn't move.
There was no point anymore.
— YOU WERE TRYING TO STOP THE FIGHT