(12-28-2012, 03:00 PM)Wilder Wrote:

Wilder</style> He failed her. He knows it, even if she doesn't. And now that Wilder returned empty handed? Not only that- he failed her twice. Thrice if you wanted to get damn technical about it. Well naturally the disappointment and tendrils of self loathing were gnawing on his insides like dogs who'd been handed bones. It had slipped his mind as he'd vanished- telling her he was leaving. Or at least that was the lie he'd told himself so often over the past months (wasn't it bordering a year now?) that he'd believed it to be truth, because the idea of being dishonest with her was condemnable. He'd forgotten. It was plausible. His mood hadn't exactly been bright and cheery either- the extreme opposite, in one of the more vicious downward spirals as he'd yet once more tried to come to grips with his damnable attraction to Mandrake. Sick as it was, he couldn't help himself. He knew she loved her sons. Well, as close to love as she was capable of. By no means did Wilder live in some imaginary world where she was soft and snugly. Knowing this, his plan had been perfect. Find the boys, bring them home, problem solved, and he'd win favor with Mandrake. Or so he'd prayed. Really it had been sheer stubbornness and... Fear. He didn't know what to do if he failed. Wilder never failed her; anything Mandrake needed- anything- would be done by the snowy son with only the tiniest inclination, and he'd assume she wanted the task completed immediately. Mandrake could and should consider the task done the second it was mentioned. He's ashamed of himself, his failure. It's branded on him now, contrasting against his light coat vididly- could they not see it? He's not sure why he bothered coming home in the first place like this. Probably should have called it quits a long while ago. But he couldn't fail her. Only recently had he finally swallowed his pride and decided to deal with the consequences. He doesn't care. Knowing that he's by her side is all he needs, even if she's feeling murderous inclinations towards him. His loyalty never wavered. Watching the dark boy with a fixed gaze, he's torn between wanting to avert his eyes from Mother's gaze and not being able to look away- he's missed her quite terribly but tries to hide it. She's not pleased. He knows it. There's no outward inclination, but he knows his mother, and knows she doesn't know where he went or why. And when she found out it was all for nought? Oh, he knew he'd be lucky to make it with both eyes and ears still attached to his figure. But he's not running, resignation written across his face in an attempt to reduce the burning brand scrawled across his body. Wings kept up. The battle scared veteran watched the exchange between mother and son. If he allowed himself to think such thoughts, Wilder would find himself extremely jealous of the black boy. He was of Mandrake's blood. Though he knew it made no real difference in the long run, blood or not, it was significant enough that it would bother him if he took the time to dwell on it. But he's better than Knox. He knows it all the way down to his bones- better than the rest of them. He was the eldest, the first born. She shifts, carving into the bones of the fallen stallion. Jealousy eats at him as the attention is paid to the youngest yet he is forced to sit in the shadows, barely having his presence acknowledged. Oh, and of course Knox had to make his first kill while his brother was away. If the Gods had any mercy, he would be struck down so as not to deal with his shame. He thought he had a handle of things- on the outside he did, but at the feet of Mandrake. Well. He always betrayed himself to her. And then its his turn. He knows she's not going to be pleased. But he doesn't care. His fallacy isn't enough for her to take his life, and he's so attention starved for her right now he doesn't care if she's perfectly capable of ripping his jugular out and leaving him to bleed like the stallion who'd once owned those bleached bones. His face is completely devoid of any and all emotion aside from the devotion he holds for her- even if it would save him to think of something, anything, he's not going to lie. Consequences be damned. "I was searching for Emerson and Kipp. I failed." Doubt thou the stars are fire, Doubt that the sun doth move, Doubt truth to be a liar, But never doubt I love.</style>

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