[saber hadn't ruminated much on what happened at the commune– not like he'd been alive for very much of werewolf, and he only found out about the burning afterward. not many of the wolves spoke of it and he didn't see a point in asking. what was so special about taking apart the step by step process of his own death? nothing. armand ripped his head off and ani held on to it and he woke up in a grave later. so what? he expected to be hated– he didn't expect not to be counted.
he had no knowledge of his head being kept, purposefully, of the secrecy around his own body parts, of the blood pact family doing their damndest to retrieve it. doing everything he likely wouldn't bat an eye at if he were in their position. or would he? he doesn't know anymore. the initial, knee-jerk reactions of offense and volatility toward devon and neon falters, and for the first time, saber doesn't have any words to spit back in neon's face. he thumbs over the keyboard,
zombieboy is typing...
zombieboy is typing...
zombieboy is typing...
nothing.]
Edited (i leave out an entire sentence??) 2026-01-08 01:21 (UTC)
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he had no knowledge of his head being kept, purposefully, of the secrecy around his own body parts, of the blood pact family doing their damndest to retrieve it. doing everything he likely wouldn't bat an eye at if he were in their position. or would he? he doesn't know anymore. the initial, knee-jerk reactions of offense and volatility toward devon and neon falters, and for the first time, saber doesn't have any words to spit back in neon's face. he thumbs over the keyboard,
zombieboy is typing...
zombieboy is typing...
zombieboy is typing...
nothing.]