[div style="font-family: georgia; font-size: 10px; width: 340px; text-align: justify; line-height:120%"][ from the dashes down is the actually important part and absolutely no one has to match my ramblings ]

Coarse the exhaustion pressed atop shoulders low in their droop, a mantle bore without grace, familiar even as it gathered further additions. Maybe such the expectation of existence, the price one must constantly pay for there is a permanent growth to the final tally, end only allowed once there was nothing left to give. What allowed this brief moment, a suspended moment carved from the delicate frame of a millisecond, to be gilded, wear the title of gift.

It was not such, far to the point of opposition, burden tempered and reframed. Free will, love, decisions. So gentle the tip, the touch against the scales, the grey no man's land cast into the monochromatic shading of black and white. Was it easier, an acceptance coming from the degrade, wearing all down to singular purpose and intent, no belonging or wayward affection, heart mere stone settled upon a pre-destined path.

Breath stirred the pages, a prop more than that which may enact the true purpose pressed between the yellowed surface of each. Long ago, a time his mind grappled with for the span of a moment before discard easily deemed it a useless fact he need not waste further time on, ignored. Once thought escape, pleasant the pages that spelled out stories spiralling ever closer to an ending often pleasant, though overly sweet in the notion of proposed happy ending. Sharp the closure, a snap that startled other residents present in the upper floor. To care could he not bring himself, gone the capacity, at least believed such, a method to stop further cracks from forming along the poorly mended chambers of his heart.

Some more vocal in their displeasure of his actions, ignored each in turn, averted vision. It was there all the same, a taunt edge, withheld the apology that gently trailed along the edge of his tongue. Once hast made clumsy those broken words, tears a fine veil he found himself pleased to note missing, yet to dampen those habits, discard what was written among the space between ribs and adorning his heart, a task he was not capable of. Thick his swallow, beneath pillow book pressed, forgotten title and plot line, known only the leather and soft gold lettering flaking away until paws were adorned in those fragile fragments. Had he no fear that tongue would form that he wished caged laughter may ring forth, the rasping note an embarrassment, however.

Other pursuits needed tending. Deft, though minute the tremor to paws, the movement, lavender and copper winding about wrist, there cinched. His history written in poor stitchwork, facsimile of the stars, a life placed among the pages of history. Nostrils flared, breath leaving in a sharp burst, vision averted. Those of before were gone now he had those of the present, strangers as each were, a new face added to the catalogue sans a name to assist in identification. Of course not all were such, some known, if for reasons he grew unsure of, selfish in the wish to enact his bygone days.

Danny.

Movement stilled, his mind more than prepared to supply a visual to tie to the name. Wrong the connection, allowed a conjuration of another, solemn grown even as the last vestiges of youth are slowly taken. Harsh the shuddering breath falling from the slight part of lips, discarded each in turn, once more into their dark corner locked those memories. Private his once wish, a withered rose allowed to fall to ruin, in all ways but that which seemed of too grand an importance family. Sudden and sharp the shake of his head, teeth brief in their reveal, a snarl that trembled and fell, grimace painted in its fleeting shadow. This boy was not one who has come before, wore a mediorite shard now adorning frost laced oak, wishful his thoughts, a want that made simpler his acceptance.

No, the child deemed Danny, who had arrived with dark tidings that only now may be revealed for the truth, was not Alexander no matter how his heart sung a pitiful song for his own days of innocent youth. Nor did the lupine deserve the weight of expectation he may never meet, crushed before Harland may tie it about his throat. For the best this, alongside his withdraw, rejected any request or attempt to follow the child made even as his heart longed to accept, fantastical the ideas that bloomed like so many roses in his mind. But for who, was it all simply another mistake cruelly deemed selfless or a blade pressed into the heart, already deep having wormed the child.

He deserves a better guardian, someone who might care for him in ways I can not offer. The realisation sharp, as though a stray bolt of electricity overcame him, back stepping, a move that scraped the tips of his claws along the wooden flooring. Never had he thought himself capable of taking on a parental role, partial responsibility falling to his inability to truly figure out his taste in terms of romantic pursuits and a fear that had plagued him for quite some time. Yet comfortable had he grown in the notion, a gentle hope that partially filled the holes that pitted his heart.

Of course there was always issues in such, his own acceptance not equalling a mutual agreement on the basis of such a shift from what was a mere acquantinceship. And there was the purpose behind Danny lingering, as he currently waged an endless war against he had no place, a temporary visitor, though easy his acclimation, a search he knew too well. To request he give up on such, a lie heavy against his tongue, and accept him in a role that may not be wanted, only a callous sort would deem such a fitting avenue to go down. As with much else Harland brushed the notion aside, allowed it to fester in the dark corners of his mind. The child needed support and care, that well within his ability to give and thus so the role of support would the bombay readily fill alongside the rest.

Where once silence presided sound swelled, a raucous mixture of various conversations, laughter, and nearly drowned out music, further increasing the volume as he stepped closer to the staircase. Unconscious his halt, upon the precipice lingering, over the edge of the top step claws hooked. Within such proximity visible now a small selection of patrons, rowdy the rabble present only for their fill of alcohol and any meal upon offer, others wore their displeasure as tasks necessitated their entry rather than pleasure. Familiar some of them, glimpses caught among the shifting sea of never still bodies, the majority strangers however. A stop off, rest found in the wooden establishment, nothing more meant. One of them was he, or, as some part of him clung to desperately, he was once.

Deep the breath he drew in, momentary his hesitation. One at a time. Behind each fell, few and rather slight the creak produced by his passage, louder that by those who brushed past, banister unkind as side met it time and time again. Expected it, miniscule the feline compared to the rest, their eyes touching upon and sliding off him, unworthy even of a moment of inspection. His side ached with a dull throbbing pain when he stepped off the last, back ears pressed as he was engulfed in the scene, alive the tavern in a manner he had only a small glimpse of from above. Quick the sweep of his gaze, sought an escape. Found it as the door swung open, against the wall slamming, the barked complaint from the bartender gone unanswered as the new arrivals found their own places.

A path now clearly set out for him the issue before Harland was actually traversing the packed establishment, his relief near palpable when the space beneath each table proved enough for him. Unnoticed his departure, the door closing with a faint click, behind trapped the overwhelming noise. Against the wall he leaned, forehead pressed to it, slight the laughter lacing his each uneasy breath. He truly was an outsider here where those from shores beyond the archipelago found and settled well into the places set aside for them, renewed thoughts he much prefer to be left well enough alone. Up his head moved, eyes moving across those present. Fewer and calmer, those that milled about, in particular interesting one.

When he had been a relative newcomer, though he was loathe to deem himself anything else for the culture was one he still could not grasp as a whole, unknown the individuals that carried the last name she did. Time had rectified this, understood and, though only partially, felt the hatred for those tied to the Cipher family. But pleasant had been his interaction with Vayne, while unwilling to call himself her uncle he could see easily that which drew Diya to the girl, and the disposition of the other seemed pleasant enough. Off the wall he pushed himself, intent on engaging Lumia though he was poor with small talk and he drew a relative blank on how to begin, his steps faltering.

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