❝ I still fight and I don’t know why. ❞
REMUS STOWS A PAUSE . he has not expected there to be so much bite to the bark . perhaps he thinks , he assumes too much . how is he to know the darkness that lurks in others hearts when of course his own is permanently swathed in the cloth cut from the moon . he supposes then , there also comes too the exhaustion from the fight && if he is brutally HONEST ? he understands more than he would ever admit to .
joints ached daily , mind hurt . organs felt aged && heart slow . older than perhaps he felt , remus was long , long now weary of his own fights . && for a long while , it had felt like he had nothing to hold onto still . nothing to cling to this world than the STUBBORN desire not to turn into ... turn into him . remus feels his knuckles tighten on the edge of the armchair before then relaxing . he is in no mood to think too hard about fenrir .
“ perhaps ... perhaps it’s less about FIGHTING && more about surviving , ” remus then prompted . “ less of a case of wanting && more of an instinctual need not to succumb . ” // @klepte