The cruelty of the hand fate had dealt him stung in ways he couldn't have imagined. Mockingbird had thought he had already endured the worst of what life could bring him, but the blossoming hope so quickly crushed had been a blow that shook him down to his bones. He had thought he had a chance, thought that maybe something had gone right in his life, that there was something to hang onto. Something that mattered. He had felt so many things when he had imprinted to Riopat, but then she had told him of her mate, and Mockingbird had heard the words spoken between them. He was too late to matter, and forever being taught he was wrong and unfit had made him believe that he could not imprint at all. That teaching had kept him from looking, and all along she had been there.

There was nothing more chilling than that fact to him. Nothing could soothe the ache it had caused, to void deepening through him. He had found was was suppost to be half of his soul, and she already belonged to someone else. Had a family (though he remembers there had been a death in it), and just went on without him. Of course had he any clue that she existed, that there was this... Mockingbird would never have left. He would have looked for her endlessly. At least he had felt her feelings watching him go, and it made him feel like she at least cared somewhat for what had happened. But she had also been thinking it was best that he go. The connection was such a painful thing.

Even now he could feeling it tugging at him. More pain from her, but Mockingbird had no place by her side. Her mate did. She wanted Mortz, and Mockingbird wouldn't come between that. He knew he was meant to make her happy, and if that made her happy, then he could not mess with it. His own pain was nothing. There was something else he felt in the connection, but he couldn't quite figure out what it was, and he had decided to do his best to ignore it. To just let Riopat have her life without concerning herself over him and his feelings. He did not want to be that kind of complication. It was strange, too, because had he known he could imprint, he would have tried to find her, yes. But upon doing so, he wouldn't have wanted to let her go for anything. Except now he had found her.. It was no longer about him, just her.

Eventually, he could feel her searching. A feeling that gave him pause in his venturing, made him wonder for what she searched. The he felt the loneliness, the way she had felt abandoned. He didn't like that, and he knew without a doubt he had to make sure that she would be alright. He had to go to her, because he could not bare the sorrow she held for being alone. Under all that, Mockingbird did not understand how she felt alone when she had a mate she wanted, who wanted her. Had something happened? But he doesn't need to know, he just needed to be there for her when she felt like this, so she did not have to feel this way anymore. The pleading vibrates in his mind, and somehow it's almost tangible when she speaks his name. It doesn't make sense, but it's still there. He keeps moving until she's in sight. "You're not alone, Riopat. You never have to be alone." He says quietly, watching her with sad eyes.