I am beginning to think my mother was right. I felt it, the broken tether to Ra's, the remnants of my shattered soul hit the floor and I was left in a heap of fur and boneless muscle and tears. Once more that pain struck me down as sure as my father's blows to the head, and I falter in my steps toward the only constant I have known. The sea, it never wavered in its there-ness. I want to go home, I want to make it back to the sandy shores, to Rogue and Everchime and Mortz. I want to forget this nasty ache within my chest, I want this pain to stop. I don't think my old friends are there anymore, but I do know the sea is. I don't even care who is ruling over the ocean front, but I know I want to be there. I think my eyes will forever be wet and salty as the sea, always stinging with unshed tears, always trying to blink them away but never succeeding. How could he leave me? Why did he - of all wolves - have to be just like her? Am I really cursed like my mother said? Will I never find someone who will love me and stay, or am I bound to send them away? All of these questions, these insecurities...It must be why no one ever stays with me. I am not worth keeping.

This is how I feel right now, this is why I cry. And any shred of thought of him is enough to make me die inside. Dark navy gaze hits the floor as a flood of hormone and heartache ebb from my bleeding heart, I cannot see to walk anymore, I stumble in the dark, blurry world of heart break. I was not meant to be here, I was supposed to be happy. Instead, I was once again fooled by false love, by something stronger than any other bond that had been forged. I do not know where he went, but he took my heart and soul with him. I would ask for it back, but I don't think I could even look at him long enough to make a word form before it was swallowed in tears. I must look wretched....

I have been unable to eat, my ribs showing beneath the once bright white pelt. My white fur has been turned a tan peach color from neglect and dirt, my eyes are sunken from dehydration...a result of being unable to force myself to drink more than a few tiny sips of water. I stumble, and when things are really bad, I crawl on my stomach toward my paradise destination. Safety, stability...this is what the pack means. The scent hits me like a moose, my ears twitching up as a sudden spark hits my gaze before dulling once more to their dark, depressing blue. Softly, I call for Tesseract, the alpha I left Glorall to. It seems a few short years had passed since I began to travel with Ra's. My call crumbles as I do at the whisper of his name across my consciousness, breaking down and curling up tightly around myself as I wait for the alpha. I cannot handle this pain...and there is nothing in my knowledge of herbs and healing to fix it. So give me stability, give me somewhere to recuperate, and I will give you my skills as a pack member when I heal from this deplorable tragedy.