The winged tiger was tired. Exhausted, even. It could be seen in the drooping eyelids and the slouched shoulders. His paws dragging across the ground and kicking up dirt onto his underbelly, no longer pure white. Nothing about him was pure, at this point. His fur was unkempt and dirty, the white crown sitting on his head was smudged with dirt and blood, and the wayfinder around his neck had been tied a couple times, the leather cord fraying again in a spot and at the point of breaking again. The stumps on his head showed there were once horns there, but jagged ends showed they had not been neatly cut from him. The metal feathers against his back were bent in odd directions as if something had ruffled the wings too roughly. His face had clean tracks down his cheeks from crying, but now his heterochromatic eyes were dry.

The past few days had been especially rough for him. He was so close. So fucking close to finding her and yet he had no luck so far. The only promise he'd intended on keeping and he broke that, too. He said he'd never let her hurt again. That she would never have to be alone again. How times was it now that he allowed both those things to happen? How many times was it his fault? Too many. This time. This time I will set things straight. I won't let this again. But he'd said that last time. And the time before that. And the time before that. [i]Maybe I'm just destined to fail. Maybe this is a sign from the universe. It would make sense, considering the number of times he'd failed horribly in his life.

First, it was being caught as a traitor, turned double agent and fucked himself over twice. The multiple accounts of murder. He'd let himself get cursed. He'd been cowardly in battle and got himself blinded. He let his son get captured and killed by the enemy. He lost track of his other children. His sister died more times than he could count, mostly by his own claws. Outside of his thoughts, he'd abruptly stopped in his path. He was thinking too much, and he'd began trembling from the pent-up anger he held over everything he'd done. With a forceful huff, he shook his head and focused on what was before him.

Derrick stood in rubble and ruin. For a moment, he was panicked. How far had he gone? What the hell was this? A whiff of the group's scent righted his thoughts again and his posture relaxed as he realized this had been the place he was initially looking for. Maybe he was a little past the border and he debated going back, respecting boundaries and all that. He decided it didn't matter all that much. Hauling himself halfway up a broken statue to get a lay of the land. There was the flower field and in the far distance, the Observatory. Something his gut told him, this was exactly what he was looking for. He could never explain his ability to find exactly where his sister was. Even if it took way longer than expected, he somehow always knew when he found her.

This time had been concerning because he had several false alarms. Too many times he'd gotten his hopes only for them to be dashed quickly and he'd cry like a baby. Even now, he was suspicious of his gut feeling, despite it feeling more solid than ever. How many more times could he fail before he found her? Surely, there wasn't much further to go by the way the breeze smelled of salt and sea. He shook his head again and dropped back to the ground, nearly collapsing under his own weight. He needed rest. No rest until I find her. He cleared his throat and raised his chin. "Anyone... around?"