Oceanic green and blue eyes stared out of the shimmering water, and Tiberius simply stared back. Blank and featureless – that’s what he saw. It was like he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to be looking at, but he knew there was something there in that emotionless void. Any moment, those eyes would brighten; any moment, that muzzle would crack into a polite, charming smile. That was what his mind seemed to expect, anyway. But the shivering young wolf didn’t have the heart to muster a frown, let alone a smile. In fact, he was pretty sure he didn’t have a heart at all – not anymore. It lay several feet beneath the earth, miles and miles back the way he’d come through this land.

The words of a stranger crashed through the desolation of the young wolf’s inner sanctum, and Tiberius gave a sudden jump in response. It was an odd sort of feeling that broke through the cold pit of his stomach as his wide eyes flashed toward the pale stranger; his spine prickled, the fur along his crest raised automatically, and his legs were rigid as stone. For the first time since he was very young, maybe a year old at the most, Tiberius found himself caught off-guard and completely blindsided by the sudden appearance of another. If his father only knew…

But he wouldn’t. That old, evil bastard would never know anything about him anymore. His father’s only son had left him and had denounced his family rites… for good.

As quickly as he had glanced at the stranger, Tiberius found himself looking away. Shame. The blood on his face, though faint from his wash… He didn’t even know this wolf, and yet he couldn’t even look him in the eye. It was his fault, after all. No, he hadn’t spilled the blood himself – but he might as well have signed the death warrant. If he had listened, or, at the very least, been smarter about disobeying his father, none of this would have happened. He could have prevented this.

His muzzle cast away from the stranger, Tiberius kept the other wolf barely in sight at the corner of his vision. “I’m fine,” he answered quietly, politely, to the pale wolf’s stuttered words of concern, though nothing about Tiberius – the way he shook from the cold or his withered, weary posture – was close to fine. “Broken” was a much more accurate description, but he would not bring himself to trouble a complete stranger with the trouble he had only caused for himself.

“Thank you for your concern.”

Tiberius turned slowly away from the wolf, careful not to make any sudden movements that might seem threatening. In all actuality, he wasn’t sure if he could make such movements, anyway. With the way his frozen legs barely flexed at the joint and his body trembled so violently from the cold, it almost seemed a wonder he was able to stand at all. This wolf, right now, could throw himself upon Tiberius now, and, no matter how much experience or training he had, there would have been little he could do to fend the stranger off. Right now, he wasn’t sure if he would even try. Even if he wasn’t shivering wildly or beyond fatigued, he was having trouble thinking of any reason why he would want to.

With that in mind, Tiberius put the first paw forward on the frozen grass. His legs buckled, trying to keep him balanced through the tremors of his body and the general weakness of his tired muscles, but they still managed to work. Slow as sap from a wounded maple, he started trudging again, making only minimal progress in his departure. His next step was slower than the first, the third barely moving at all, until he was entirely still once more… barely a few inches from where he had started.

Head hanging low and eyes closing wearily, he couldn’t manage so much as a sigh. Everything hurt too much – even on a metaphysical level. He… He would just stand her for a while, then.

Might as well…