@n0chanxes || There were stages to grief, or so Wolf had been told. He couldn't remember who had told him, only that he hadn't been in Hell for long and he didn't have his human form yet. It had been so early on, where his life was four paws and fiery fur and all of the ear and tummy scratches he could ever want. Maybe that was why he didn't remember just how many stages there were, but he knew that there were stages, and that at some point during the week, he'd moved from one, to another. From heartbreak and feeling lost, to something so close to anger and confusion that he didn't quite know what to do with himself.
He'd never been angry like this. Even when his days were filled with nothing but his brother tearing chunks of flesh from him and starving him of his fair share of food, he'd never been angry. He just hadn't understood... But now? Now, he was sure that this odd, bubbling, white-hot little sensation in his chest was the closest thing to it. They'd abandoned him. All of the people he loved, and cared for, and dedicated hours upon hours of his life into protecting and being there for, just... didn't care. And that hurt. So was it any surprise, truly, that he'd taken to Kal so wholly in a single week?
He was practically glued to him, and him alone. If Kal was somewhere, Wolf was there too. If he couldn't be there, or there involved other people, he would wait patiently in the same chair in the same room until Kal came back. Anything Kal even hinted that he wanted, Wolf practically tripped over himself to try and give it to him. In a week. And yet, he got something in return, didn't he? He got someone that allowed him to feel, allowed him to think and be and exist and make decisions of his own all at the same time. They were small decisions still, little things like deciding he didn't want what was suggested for dinner and trying to make or order his own, and when he'd stammered out a confession to Kal that he didn't like the taste of the toothpaste in the bathroom, but they were still decisions. Kal had provided Wolf with a safe space, a distraction from that anger but also an environment to feel it. He just... hadn't checked in with himself much yet.
But that also meant that when Kal told him he wanted to talk about something when he got back from whatever task he was completing, Wolf immediately felt panic building in his chest, clenching at his heart. But... trust. He had to trust. He had to...
Shaking feet had carried him to the chair that had become his safe place, and he curled his knees right up to his chest the moment he was settled. And... well. He waited. For Kal to come back, for him to be cast out, he wasn't sure. But he waited.
