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A relationship is made up of two parts. A man and a woman. Those two parts are supposed to blend seemlessly into one another, they are supposed to hold each other up through the hardest of times, they are supposed to be there to shine the light in those dark spots, comfort and take care when the other is incapable of doing such things. These two wolves, both of the snowiest white pelts, both with darkness in their past, both should be to blame for this. Paldor more than Ruvindra. He knows the different ways that poppies deal with pain, he should have known better then to abuse what he had been taught to be a healing product of nature. What we're trying to say is that she shouldn't take it as hard as she is, we know, well Pal knows that she would drop everything for him, this is true because she is here with him now. It is not all her fault, if he knew these were her thoughts he would vhelmently disagree with them, like he always has done.

But they are not having a link such as this, Paldor can only see the dreams he can hear her thoughts, as benificial as it might become. Blood. It brings the flashes back quickly, the taste of it on his tongue, the smell of it in the air. His tail tries to tuck it's self into him but it's so crooked that we doubt he could if he really really tried to do it. He is snapped from them when she releases him, he shakes and shivers, his front paw lifted slightly off the ground as he lays there waiting for it all to shatter around him, how long had he been out of it? His eyes are closed to the world as he lays there, unsure if this was real or just another dream that would wreak havoc on his mind in the morning and cause him to go further and further into another drug induced day. Pink tongue flicks out to the taste of blood and he sneezes.

He does not like the taste of her blood. "See what you've done, ruined it all over again. How can she trust you now?" he shakes his head slightly feeling the warmth of Ruvindra next to him, feeling her weight against his own, the sobs did not last long for her voice breaks through and tells him that she has loved all of him, his head tips sideways as he leans it against her shoulder so that his forehead is sliding down to rest his chin on her paws. "You are to good Ruv, to good to me you are," he says turning so that his closed eyes finally open and look up at her, a deep though ragged breath seeps into his nostrils slowly and comes out just as slowly and crackly, he feels the drag of her tongue across his cheek and for the first time, probably since he's come to this place, he smiles. It's broken, cracked and in need of some serious repairs, but it's there. "How does one as unlucky as myself retain the love of someone as special as you?" he says.

He sighs as she throws a paw over him and pulls him closer to her, his body moving with her easily enough as he lets his legs flop out from under him, his breathing has steadied it's self for now but he feels the phlem building up in his throat "Where have you been, Paldor?" he does his best to swollow the lump in his throat as he moves his head from side to side "A little bit of here, a little bit of there... a whole lot of every where really...." he didn't really honestly know where he'd been, what packs he'd gallavanted through, which of the open lands he'd slept in, what hole in the ground he had called home for how ever long he'd been gone. How long had it been? "I do not fully know Ruvindra... my mind... I need to say this, I need to... Ruvindra... I hear things-" "oh shut up you fool, she wont believe you! She'll tell you your a liar! AND OLD DOTTERING FOOL!" a low growl slips his lips but his ears fall to the sides as if to say he's sorry for the outburst.

"Voices Ruvindra, ever since... when my pack was swollowed by fire they came to me, voices, friends.. family... others..." he didn't dare say lover. He doesn't know now if what he and Dutchess had was love, or if it was just some random thing, a tossing together of two lives for the sake of a pack-land that would soon turn to ash, a fancy of the mind he had probably made up all this time. Who knows if his lands really even existed or if they were made up in his mind. "Don't do it old man! Don't you dare do it!" the voice is unfamiliar, and yet it's there. Stark across his mind. "They plauge me, day and night, night and day. Their incessive chatter rips apart the very fabric of my mind. Shred it to peices and then spit it back out. Taunting me, telling me things that no one should ever have to hear..." all of this babble from a rather quiet man is strange, but he is broken and when people break their contents tend to spill all over the place.

"this is how he speaks"

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