<font color=#a1987a><font color=black></font>how am I still alive?</font>

The snow swirls around him, causing him to loose track of his mind, to loose track of his placement he doesn't feel as if this place is what he wants, but it's better than being where he was from. The ghosts still lived there, still lived within his mind but not as many of them. Just a few. Those who felt they where the most important to his life. Oz, Countess, the old alpha that kept slipping horrid thoughts into his mind. He just wanted them all to leave him alone, to get the hell out of his head, it is these thoughts, those rambling words that keep his mind unfocused from the things around him. They tell him such things like he's the failure, it's all his fault that the world blew up in a fire storm, that no one would listen to him because he was to weak to stand up and fight for his own thoughts. She often told him he didn't love her, that it was his fault she was dead, if he'd have fought for her harder that they would still be together.

"But I did fight hard enough" he muses to himself, he had screamed at them all, screamed to the moon and stars that the world would die in fire like rain, that their world would be consumed by this fire and all within it would die. The gods had fore told him this, they had given him the warning instead of the elders, so no one would believe him, so that they would all laugh and scoff in his face. Treat him like the insane one. No one this young had ever gotten a vision such as this. It was impossible. He could still hear their taunts and jeers "It's not your birthright to say such things" "Foolish Paldor, no god would allow such a thing to consume it's people" the list went on and on. It is these thoughts that he is lost in when she bumps into him. It jarrs him forwards, rocketing him onto his face in the snow, a growl leaves his lips as he jumps free of the snow and swirls around in a white tornado of fur and snow.

"What is wrong with this world!? Are none of you born with eyes and a sense of smell?!" he says towards the female, her coat is a soft cream that seems to blend in with the snow just as much as his pure white coat, though it's splattered with mud, debris and blood from a recent meal of fox. His eyes open wide, the white of them almost lost in his coat if it wasn't for the black skin that ringed them. She looked like Countess. His heart stopped in his chest, though on the outside he's just as hatred filled as always, that mask never leaving his features not even for one second in the realization that this female wouldn't, couldn't be his mate. "She's dead Pal, just like the rest of us" he knows the voice of Oz all to well these days and he shakes his head. "Watch where your going" he grumbles and turns away from her, the sight of the other makes him hurt all the more inside.

"talks like this"

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