Self/Shutdown (past)
, tw-violence sort of, and death just mentioned
It hadn't taken long to run the length of the woods through the trees. The low growls, a whimper and a scream. All heard by expert ears as he thought to maybe just shift and make it easier. Still, he didn't. Instead he arrived at the clearing, hair hanging in his eyes as he took in the sight of the black wolf looming over the man on the ground. He was still, eyes blank as he looked up at the sky; dead eyes illuminated by a full moon.
For a moment Sebastian stood back and admired the morbid beauty of it all. The beauty of the ripple of black fur when she stepped back, the scent of blood in the air, and the way the man laid on the mess of dirt and leaves. Silence was broken when the wolf turned on him with darkened eyes, but there was no threat visible. She bowed her head as if ashamed, but Sebastian knew better than that.
He shook his head, whistling then and putting up the signal. Why would you turn me in? She had asked prior when they were still blissfully unaware of any violence or death. Laid in bed while he combed his fingers through her blonde hair and she looked up at him with those eyes that told him she trusted him down to the minute detail. Flashlights began to break the darkness as the wolf laid on the ground. Seeming to give up really. She wouldn't be able to shift back for a while, but she wouldn't even make it that far. There was something oddly poetic about dying in your form, Sebastian thought as branches cracked under the weight of heavy feet.
"You have committed a murder against all our laws. Against what you were warned, Sebastian began as his counterparts filed beside him. Other's approaching the wolf with raised weapons. "The sentence for that is death itself. With the evidence presented, there is no need for a defense."
Chin held high, he shoved down the memories. A soft smile, the way she flipped her hair over her shoulder or the way she turned her nose up when she was annoyed with him. The way she smelled like strawberries in spring. Gone. His face became cold-void of anything and it would be from then on out. It was not worth throwing ones self into something only to be proven wrong in the end. A liar as was most of the world he figured out.
"Take her."
It was the last order before they were handling the wolf. He watched as she barely put up a fight. Those eyes of trust, however, looked upon him now with disappointment.
You could be more if you let yourself.
"I already am," he muttered to a ghost, watching them take her as he straightened his suit and casually walked his way back out of the woods.
