At Leisure Lake the sun is always shining and only a few stray clouds roam the open sky; paradise is the one word that really describes it. This beautiful lake is clean and refreshing, the very best place to swim and fish. Pups are known to play here while older wolves watch at the side, engaged in their own activities.

Refresh/Reload

My redemption's something I will never know. (open)
IP: 24.62.203.164

The white demon had been absent for a time. There had been... things... he had had to attend to. Unpleasant things, though he was indifferent to them by now. Still, even for him, it was bad. Worse than he had imagined. The "souvenirs" of his trip were weighing on him, both physically and mentally. Rodan had put on a brave face, his typical stoic mask, the whole time, but even that was starting to crack. Weak. He was weak. Kahn would be strong. He wouldn't let anything break him. Except, apparently, Ro.

They were each other's worst enemy, really. The older brute had a soft spot for the younger and vice versa. It was Kahn who had driven Rodan to madness. To kill. The boy's father had returned briefly, screwed with his son's head, and left behind a damaged pawn. This was the last straw. Kahn had gone after him and Ro after him. He reached him in time to see his father throw him to the side, ending their horrible fight. The brute didn't know if his uncle had moved or not; he didn't care. In that moment, he saw red. If the king could beat an exceptionally warrior like Kahn, his weaker son should have been no problem. But he himself was weakened, bleeding and bruised, and the prince's anger was unmatched. The damn coward ran behind his forces, leaving the brujo to battle them. Which he did, killing until the others knew they were beaten. They didn't run. No, in those parts, no one ever ran. But they would not kill him, he knew that. They did not believe his father like others did. The bastard couldn't fool everyone despite what he liked to think. Rodan could have killed him. He knew he could have. The old man was pressed flat against a cave wall, a healer working furiously at his wounds. Easy pickings. He wanted to kill him so badly but he just couldn't bring himself to.

His father had a guardian angel of sorts. His older son, the true heir to the throne. He was no murderer, it was clear in his eyes. But as much as he might have loved his little brother, he would defend his father even with all his cruelty. The man had raised him. Tempest was the one he truly did love. Rodan couldn't take that away from his brother. And maybe, just maybe, a small part of him just couldn't do it. He had morals. Kahn didn't, but he did. And for all the horrible things his father had done and all the hatred he had for the Titan, there was still a part of him that, dare he say it, loved the bastard. Even when his father attacked him, he did not kill him. He couldn't. Tempest eventually yanked him off, giving Ro a chance to escape. He didn't see Kahn, or he would have taken him too, so he bolted. Like a coward.

He shouldve looked harder. His uncle, his mentor, his caretaker, could be dead and he'd done nothing. He disgusted himself. Kahn would've found him. Maybe death was preferable, considered the hatred his father had for the brute. Torture was a likely fate if he was alive and in the possession of the king. Rodan ran and ran, ran from his weakness, his cowardice. From the possibility of losing the one lupine who cared for him. He ran until he collapsed in front of a lake. His body couldn't take it anymore. The exhaustion seeped into every muscle. Nonstop running for who knows how long hadnt been good. Especially not the way he was. The usually pristine white pelt was now almost unrecognizable: blood stains, his own and others', dust and dirt, mats, and various types of debris littered it. What should have been a healthy, normal adult was a crazy, disheveled one.

He would've cleaned himself off. He knew he should. His wounds would get infected if they weren't already. He couldn't bring himself to. Nothing mattered anymore. All the anxiety and exhaustion caught up to him and the last layer of his emotionless mask broke. The brute let out a mournful howl and laid his head on his paws, tears beginning to flow from his two toned orbs. In the back of his mind, a little voice called out and the words echoed in his head, "Pathetic..... Pathetic...... Pathetic...."

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