But... it wasn't entirely whole.
@Poe
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Nero didn't remember what it felt like to be whole, but he'd gotten so accustomed to feeling incomplete that he was beginning to trick himself into thinking he was. He thought missing part of himself was just normal for everyone. Surely there was no one out there genuinely happy with their lives, right? That was a fairytale. Their lives didn't involve the death of two mothers, the disappearance of a third, the death of siblings and wars and losing the ones he cared the most about. Worse yet, some of those lions weren't even gone physically. Some of them were just light-years away despite being within touching distance. No matter how much he tried to close the gap, Nero never seemed to get any further to home. To happiness.
His eyes drifted across the landscape as he walked, his purpose .. well, he didn't have one for the first time in a long time. Guilt ate away at him for not searching for Ghyslaine, but he was tired. He was so, so tired; how could he keep going? When would be allow himself to take a fucking break?
Today, apparently.
Nero dropped like a lug in the middle of the fields, rolling onto his side with a muffled yell as he took out some of his frustrations.
He wasn’t entirely sure where to go anymore. It felt like he was caged by the misery of his own making, shoved into a corner where he was only ever removed to try and do good but somehow end up shooting himself in his own foot. Again. Maybe he should try to go full chaotic evil and see where that got him because it seemed to be working rather well for everyone else. Fuck the peace. Maybe it was time for anarchy. Live hard, die young.
If he could fight worth a damn, it might be something worth considering.
His tattered ear twitched at the voice - familiar, comforting, yet so distant it caused him physical pain. “It’s a free country. You may scream wherever you want.” But he gestured to the spot beside him anyway, offering them a tired grin. “Make sure it’s a good one.”
Nero laughed at Nazonal’s determination, but he knew there was nothing they couldn’t do when they put their mind to it. He had watched them grow up (while he was growing, too) from a somewhat goofy cub to a battleworn leader, yet somehow they managed to retain the softness of their heart. Nero envied her and the way she seemed to always just be.. okay, even if he didn’t know what she was like behind closed doors anymore. Maybe Sparrow saw things he never had and never would, and maybe that was for the best. If there was one thing he did not know, it was what was best. For anyone, especially himself.
When the screaming session came to an end, Nero grinned. “Feel any better?” It helped to an extent, he thought, but it was just a bandage over a gunshot. If the bullet was still embedded inside, there was no healing that could take place.
Bandaids worked.
"I sure hope so. I'll scream all the time if that ever happens."
“That’s all i could hope for.” It was a sad existence for the both of them when their lives had become so consumed by violence that a broken jaw not hurting quite as bad was seen as such a victory. They had both been reckless as teenagers, but now everything felt so much more.. real, and he hated it. Everything had been fine before, when it had been him and @Nazonal against the world; she had cheered him on when he had gotten into battle after battle and in exchange, he had gifted her a woman’s tail. A woman’s tail, for god’s sake. Now what he wouldn’t give to rip off someone else’s tail if only to see that effortless smile back on her face once more.
Everything just felt strained. He wanted to reach out and touch them as they turned to face him but tucked his paws beneath him instead, loafing like any good feline does. Maybe if he sat on his hands, he wouldn’t be so tempted to touch? Yeah, sure, that seemed like a solid enough plan.
Nero turned his attention onto the stars with a flick of his tail. “I mean, hunting might be a bit harder, but I’m down to try it. Why not? Why not scream all the time?” He had a feeling his neighbors wouldn’t appreciate it too much, but fuck ‘em. If Nazonal wanted to scream, he would scream right there alongside her.
Why couldn't it always be like this? Effortless. Everything always had been effortless when it came to @Nazonal and yet Nero had chosen the path of greatest resistance - why? Of course it had stung that she had once wished Ghyslaine would reject him, but the longer he dwelled on it the more he understood that somewhere deep down, he had been hoping for the same. The same for himself and the same for Nazonal, that they would not find someone else to replace him. It was wickedly selfish and horribly cruel of him to think that way, to try and be so greedy as to keep her from happiness. He wanted to be her happiness. For fucks sake, he wanted to be her everything and he had been once upon a time. Nero was a fool through and through, so he really had no hesitation in joining her cry of "FUUUUCCKK!" as he tilted his muzzle to the sky. It wasn't the prettiest song, but it felt pretty damn amazing to scream at the top of his lungs and only look partially weird. He had company, so obviously he wasn't fully weird.
Just partially.