KENSHIN
if I knew you were going to survive
I WOULD HAVE NEVER LET YOU FALL
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YOU BELIEVE THAT THE STRONG EXIST TO CULL THE WEAK. TO USE THEM AS FOOD. BUT YOU ARE MISTAKEN.
Time had not been kind to the brindled hessian. He had not been given time to speak with Kahlan due to strange phenomenon with his own inner demons. Instead of going to her, he ran in the opposite direction. It was to be a very dark night for him then. By some strike of luck he had managed to escape the confines of Saw Tooth without touching a single hair on a mortals skin. However… this was not the same case as with the lone lands where no wolf belonged to a pack. Claw marks on trees, a broken bone, and blood covering every inch of him yet again had the amber eyed rurouni keeling over for breath. Filth regurgitated from his weak stomach after seeing the crimes he’d committed once again had been imbedded on him. And utterly terrified of wrecking havoc on any creature he would recognize, he did not return to Saw Tooth for some time. He even toyed with the idea of never returning. Of leaving Kahlan to a better life so that she did not have to continue thinking of him fondly when he deserved no such thing at all. So for weeks the mass killer roamed from land to land. He eventually got far enough from any pack of Blossom that he let himself loose. His anger, resentment, malice and need for death turned him dark once more, allowing him to be a thoughtless killer. The thing he had been bred to be. The thing he had been raised and branded as. He forced a weak male to heal him of his wounds, including tending to his broken bone before, after a time, he had his heart in his fangs squirting crimson to the floor as well. He left that place with others on his tail, aiming to put his head on a plate. Why had he suddenly been rushed back into this, one may ask? It is unclear. Within the mind there are two parts. One that needs and one that wants. Though Kenshin may want to turn back into a creature of light, his body needed him to remain the exact same as he had always been. Else it could not function correctly. Hallucinations had been plagueing the creature of night for weeks when Kahlan was by his side… and because he would rather wake up to see a stranger’s lifeless eyes staring back at him instead of hers, his body required the release in order to rid himself of these nightmares. Alas, this was not the first time that Kenshin had had to leave a woman. But the first time he had been required to do so because of her own death. Death that he had been the cause of.
What dragged him back to Blossom was a feeling he could not shake. The thought that he had abandoned the woman he had promised his protection to to Kershov… it ate him up inside. Though the male had tortured the brujo’s mind, he had never truly sliced Kenshin to pieces save for a brand that now raced across his cheek. He stayed once more to the shadows, and hid everytime a varg was to pass him by. But could he return to her? Could she forgive him once more? Blood was still splattered across his cloak, pulling crimson into the mix of his deep colors. Wounds and scars had been taken by him and some were to last forever. A new bite to his ear had torn the side, not ripping it clean off, but leaving two jagged cuts that would never heal back together. A well placed snag on his face left him with a new scar running down the length of his front right leg. It would heal the same way his cross shaped scar had. And if, like that one, it was full of despair, he knew it would never grow fur over it. Kenshin stopped quietly, moving in the direction of the lake. He would need to wash the blood of so many others off before he even made an attempt to approach Kahlan once more. And so he did. He moved out of the shadows and into the shallows of the lake, careful not to be too suspicious and grab the attention of those enjoying the sunlight. Creatures that had more light in their life than they would ever know to appreciate. The brujo stood belly deep in the crystalline, then dipped his head to the surface, gulping down two swigs of fresh water.
THE STRONG EXIST, NOT TO FEED OFF OF THE WEAK, BUT TO PROTECT THEM.
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