( legosi's mind had been lagging behind, left in the dust by the automatic nature of his instincts and his actions, but now it was starting to catch up. he feels like he'd been hit by a truck. his ear (or, rather, the torn place he'd one had an ear) and the many lacerations on his arms and chest sting against open air. the blood that had streamed down one side of his face had dried and crusted over; he couldn't even open that eye anymore. as his adrenaline had ebbed and exhaustion slowly filtered into its place, his posture had degraded; now, he drags his feet as he takes limping steps forward. how he'd even gotten away from everyone else was a question he would have to delve deep into his memories to try to discern, but there had been so much happening, he supposes he had just slipped away. he wants to be with them, of course. to smile at louis, happy that they had accomplished what they had set out to do. to try to reassure his grandfather that he was fine (or that he would at the very least be fine, very soon). to speak with yahya again, to try to figure out if he could ever get through to melon.
so why is it that he found himself shambling back home? there wasn't much for him here. in all honesty, when he had closed the behind them on that mess of drying blood, legosi had thought it would be the last he'd ever see of it. he had been very aware he was marching toward his potential death. so what does he march towards now? his — future? one where he can be with haru? that's what he had been promised, and yahya did not seem a man to not be true to his word...
it was all too common for legosi to become so focused on what was directly in front of him that he was startled when that was suddenly cleared away, leaving him with the aftermath. he feels excited — exhilarated, even — but also a little afraid. in the moment he had felt the need to take the problems of animal society into his own hands and wrangle them himself, but that fleeting bravado was leaving him, and he has to wonder who or what he is now. if not some delinquent wolf, if not a beastar... does he have to be someone who helped change the world? would anyone regard him as such if they'd known the whole story — the full scope of his reasons?
it's too much to think about now. he's so tired. each step in the condo feels like a hill that he's had to sprint up. when he arrives at his hall, he sees the familiar, huddled shape in front of his door and he stops dead. a thrill of fear worms its way through the veins and arteries of his body, spiking him with enough endorphins to force his body down the hall with more speed than was probably recommended for him at this point. he calms down as he gets closer, ascertaining that she's uninjured; she's just resting with her head resting against her knees.
he knows immediately upon seeing her here that he's fucked up. even knowing that, he's also aware he wouldn't have done it any other way — even if she would yell at him for it, he wouldn't have wanted her anywhere near the back alley market, where her safety would have been in question or leveraged against him. he huffs a breath, and then every bone in his body seems to creak as he lowers himself down to her level, resting back on his haunches. he's silent for a moment, a bit of that fear flaring up once more, afraid that once he wakes her up, it would prompt her to finally come to her senses and leave behind a no-good wolf like him. but, no. he had to.
he reaches out and strokes her head with one large, clawed hand; her fur is so soft, and after everything that had happened today, he feels like he's never felt anything softer. for a moment he is silent, his gaze averted; his one remaining ear flaps helplessly, uncertain of what to say, wondering if there was anything he could say that would make any of this better.
in the end, he doesn't think there necessarily is. but, characteristically, he tries anyway: )
...Haru-chan... I'm sorry.
(for all of this, for everything. and for how much of a mess he looks right now. )
no subject
so why is it that he found himself shambling back home? there wasn't much for him here. in all honesty, when he had closed the behind them on that mess of drying blood, legosi had thought it would be the last he'd ever see of it. he had been very aware he was marching toward his potential death. so what does he march towards now? his — future? one where he can be with haru? that's what he had been promised, and yahya did not seem a man to not be true to his word...
it was all too common for legosi to become so focused on what was directly in front of him that he was startled when that was suddenly cleared away, leaving him with the aftermath. he feels excited — exhilarated, even — but also a little afraid. in the moment he had felt the need to take the problems of animal society into his own hands and wrangle them himself, but that fleeting bravado was leaving him, and he has to wonder who or what he is now. if not some delinquent wolf, if not a beastar... does he have to be someone who helped change the world? would anyone regard him as such if they'd known the whole story — the full scope of his reasons?
it's too much to think about now. he's so tired. each step in the condo feels like a hill that he's had to sprint up. when he arrives at his hall, he sees the familiar, huddled shape in front of his door and he stops dead. a thrill of fear worms its way through the veins and arteries of his body, spiking him with enough endorphins to force his body down the hall with more speed than was probably recommended for him at this point. he calms down as he gets closer, ascertaining that she's uninjured; she's just resting with her head resting against her knees.
he knows immediately upon seeing her here that he's fucked up. even knowing that, he's also aware he wouldn't have done it any other way — even if she would yell at him for it, he wouldn't have wanted her anywhere near the back alley market, where her safety would have been in question or leveraged against him. he huffs a breath, and then every bone in his body seems to creak as he lowers himself down to her level, resting back on his haunches. he's silent for a moment, a bit of that fear flaring up once more, afraid that once he wakes her up, it would prompt her to finally come to her senses and leave behind a no-good wolf like him. but, no. he had to.
he reaches out and strokes her head with one large, clawed hand; her fur is so soft, and after everything that had happened today, he feels like he's never felt anything softer. for a moment he is silent, his gaze averted; his one remaining ear flaps helplessly, uncertain of what to say, wondering if there was anything he could say that would make any of this better.
in the end, he doesn't think there necessarily is. but, characteristically, he tries anyway: )
...Haru-chan... I'm sorry.
( for all of this, for everything. and for how much of a mess he looks right now. )