More and more he found himself staying away from the lands that were Fate Respite. The past interactions with one of its residents had sent him spiraling, a lost soul that was adrift in a world that no longer held any meaning for him. Large paws guided the golden wolf, whose heart had been torn to shreds, and spirit put nearly in the ground. And he couldn't shake the words out of his head. The words that told him it was all his fault. The way she spat out the truth to his ears, left him feeling hollow and without purpose. Nothing made sense any more. Nothing mattered any more. But still, somehow, he had to carry on.

Cyrus had been wandering the grassy fields that day. The morning light casting its glow upon his brightly colored hide. Blue eyes that were now empty of gaze, kept to the grass, too afraid that someone would come up to him and spread more venom directly in his crosshairs. Though there was something different this day. A scent that caught his nose, something faint in the wind that smelled of bergamot and vanilla. Was there someone else out here?

Cyrus felt the subtle temptation to call out, though fear gripped him to the bone. The thought of trying only brought back nothing but fresh memories of damage done. So silent he remained, all the while continuing to walk in their direction. Hoping that they would decide to simply not attack him even though he might be trespassing. Gods, please show forgiveness and grace to a broken and empty soul. For he is without feeling, and without sense.