He'd lost all connection to his past. He knew that. He no longer had any tangible proof that his memories had once been lived. His body wouldn't suffice, as it was simply a creation of his own. He didn't let himself hold any mars on his small and apparently frail being. His mother he hadn't seen in a while, and he was pretty certain that she had fled from this place. He didn't really care - he had never had strong feelings for his female parent.
His father was a bit different, as he never really knew him before he had gone from this world. He had no blood relation to his parents, as he was a unique creature. He had no real family, but for some reason he felt a connection with his deceased guardian. His thoughts didn't dwell much on the older male, as he didn't think much about the past.
His past was dark and depressing, and he'd much rather spend time being happy instead of sad. But then again, he admited to himself with a soft smile, melancholy had a tinge of sweetness to it. One he hoped he'd be able to share with his beloved werewolf one day. Then again, he was sure Fayloan knew the feeling, as his family was slaughtered, weren't they?
He blinked, realization striking him. He wanted to learn about Fay's past. Really, really badly. He wanted to be able to paint the picture of his lover as a child and as an early teen. That would be a nice image, he mused to himself.
His choice of ramblings this night had definitely sparked an interest in him as he lay in his bed, crimson gaze staring half-open at the ceiling. He had no resting state - something he'd actually envied of humans and other beings. Oh well, he had better things. Things most humans only dream of. Though he wasn't the best at magic, his natural power was enormous as it was. He sighed, bringing his thoughts back to the trace of his past his fading memory let him grasp onto.
And he began to hum. A soft, bittersweet croon that he had overheard every night he had spent in that pitch-black room he'd known as his personal Hell. The tone didn't sadden him much, though it did keep him solemn. The tune brought him hope, and he'd felt rather depleted of music, so he just continued his humming.
He hoped he didn't wake the others taking residence in his house. Had Gabe and Shadow returned tonight? He hadn't noticed. Then again he seemed to have better things to do than worry about them. After all, worrying did little to help his predicament. Yet another sigh was given as he looked out his window at the rising sun.
Ugh. It was time to wake up.
((Sorry for the drabblyness of this, reply if you want.))
His father was a bit different, as he never really knew him before he had gone from this world. He had no blood relation to his parents, as he was a unique creature. He had no real family, but for some reason he felt a connection with his deceased guardian. His thoughts didn't dwell much on the older male, as he didn't think much about the past.
His past was dark and depressing, and he'd much rather spend time being happy instead of sad. But then again, he admited to himself with a soft smile, melancholy had a tinge of sweetness to it. One he hoped he'd be able to share with his beloved werewolf one day. Then again, he was sure Fayloan knew the feeling, as his family was slaughtered, weren't they?
He blinked, realization striking him. He wanted to learn about Fay's past. Really, really badly. He wanted to be able to paint the picture of his lover as a child and as an early teen. That would be a nice image, he mused to himself.
His choice of ramblings this night had definitely sparked an interest in him as he lay in his bed, crimson gaze staring half-open at the ceiling. He had no resting state - something he'd actually envied of humans and other beings. Oh well, he had better things. Things most humans only dream of. Though he wasn't the best at magic, his natural power was enormous as it was. He sighed, bringing his thoughts back to the trace of his past his fading memory let him grasp onto.
And he began to hum. A soft, bittersweet croon that he had overheard every night he had spent in that pitch-black room he'd known as his personal Hell. The tone didn't sadden him much, though it did keep him solemn. The tune brought him hope, and he'd felt rather depleted of music, so he just continued his humming.
He hoped he didn't wake the others taking residence in his house. Had Gabe and Shadow returned tonight? He hadn't noticed. Then again he seemed to have better things to do than worry about them. After all, worrying did little to help his predicament. Yet another sigh was given as he looked out his window at the rising sun.
Ugh. It was time to wake up.
((Sorry for the drabblyness of this, reply if you want.))