IT'S A DIFFERENT ME . open, emotional

[DARKPAW]

[align=center][div style="width: 517px; text-align: justify; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 9.5pt; line-height: 1.3;"][color=black]&& YOU'VE GOT A WARM HEART, YOU'VE GOT A BEAUTIFUL BRAIN → SHC / LION
/ he's so bad at this whoops alsdkjfhadf

Sometimes, when people weren't staring at him, the world Darkpaw has built for himself seems to crumble. There are a million layers of protection, false identities that he allows other people to see instead of who he really is. It's not because he has some misplaced fear of intimacy; he's not worried that someone will see him and reject him. Perhaps it's just that he wants them to, that he wishes they would. Everything about him seems so icy all the time, a cold reflection of someone else's warmth, but if you can wind your way through the dead concrete jungle of his defenses, he's really something to see. His eyes drift shut when he's safe, shoulders no longer holding all of the world's weight. If only it was that simple, though. If only he could keep his eyes closed as he relearns this world, one without some of the people he cared for the most. Oh, he had almost everyone, sure. His entire ragtag family is here, and Lonepaw too. But like Setekh, Win is choking on hope.

Even if he's only ten months old, death follows him like a plague. It had already beat him once, but before that it had taken everyone that he ever loved. Yeah, that's a little... Maudlin of him; it makes him seem as if he's something to be pitied. All he has left to hope for is the arrival of his parents here, or the arrival of Rob's, or B's. The others have people they're waiting for. If only everyone could see that. They're all missing someone.

It's dark out, yet the lion finds himself curled up on a section of scorched ground instead of the safety of the few trees ShadowClan had left. The summer warmth doesn't leave him wanting for anything else, so he's had trouble falling asleep instead. When he does, it's fitful — even the illusion of peace has been taken from him, not that pretending to be something he isn't has gotten him anywhere this far. It was here that he found some peace instead, his pale eyes wide open as he stares at the sky from where his head is settled on his paws. There was no way to wipe away all the scars, both inside and out, yet he might as well have been liquid until a noise from some distance away startles him. All as well, with the line of thought it had stolen him from, the tracks artfully twisting until the train tips and curls in on itself. Yet another thing to be sorted out later — heavy paws are already heading towards the sounds of sobs even though Darkpaw knows that he's one of ShadowClan's least qualified emotional supports. He'd never been good at talking about it.

Each step brings a stiffness back to his spine, his shoulders set professionally high, and his eyes narrowed back to an inscrutable stare. He tries to soften after a moment, his eyes focused mainly on the belongings between the older creature's paws. It looks like a goodbye. (He was never much good at those either.) "Are you —" Voice cracking, the lion simply lets the rest of his sentence melt into the ground and tries not to scoff at himself. No, of course he wasn't alright. Nothing good was easy. Nothing worth it felt good. "I mean — do you want to talk about it?" The world was filled with unhappy endings; all he could hope was that Setekh's goodbye would lead him somewhere good.