The first thing he had felt - truly felt, beyond the rage that had subsumed his consciousness for a time he could only guess at - had been the cold. His fingers and toes had been so cold, and the rest of him had gradually lost the numbness that had seeped into his very bones as he made his groggy way out of the black haze that had imprisoned his thoughts. He had continued to wander for a time in his animal shapes, using the protection of their fur and feathers to warm himself as his mind wandered in and out of anger, hunger, shame, and fear. He had continued to hunt, to kill for an unholy pleasure taken in the violence, but the mindless fury began to slip away and eventually he remembered that he had a name. Had a heart.
Had a home.
He had returned first to the farmstead, shaking with fear and fatigue, afraid of what he would find, but his black-fogged memories offered no clue. Not until Rory had opened the door and wrapped strong arms around him until he thought his ribs would break, not until he had frantically searched his mate for any signs of wound or new scar and found none did he begin to believe that the nightmare was ending.
It wasn't over yet, alas. The rages had not left him entirely, and his tears and blood were still black and thick, but they grew less so each day. Isuma returned to love them both, and for the first time in a season there was hope that things were finally getting better...
But Long Night was fast approaching, and though he did not entirely trust himself around others yet, there was no time to hide away and heal. Once he had regained enough of his strength to travel safely to and from town alone he had gone first to the bakery and then, when Amalia wasn't in, he had come to the Atheneum and the Guildhall, hoping he might find the Provost there.
"Amalia ?" he called softly as he descended the stairs. "Are you here?"
Had a home.
He had returned first to the farmstead, shaking with fear and fatigue, afraid of what he would find, but his black-fogged memories offered no clue. Not until Rory had opened the door and wrapped strong arms around him until he thought his ribs would break, not until he had frantically searched his mate for any signs of wound or new scar and found none did he begin to believe that the nightmare was ending.
It wasn't over yet, alas. The rages had not left him entirely, and his tears and blood were still black and thick, but they grew less so each day. Isuma returned to love them both, and for the first time in a season there was hope that things were finally getting better...
But Long Night was fast approaching, and though he did not entirely trust himself around others yet, there was no time to hide away and heal. Once he had regained enough of his strength to travel safely to and from town alone he had gone first to the bakery and then, when Amalia wasn't in, he had come to the Atheneum and the Guildhall, hoping he might find the Provost there.
"
