Quasar padded up and glanced at the letter, huffing. His tails flicked behind him—he remembered the last invite’s disastrous end for him. But, if they were to fight, then he would fight. All the cold weather drove him stir crazy, and his hot blood hissed for battlefield release.
It was either his natural aggression or his trauma that spurred him on. Why not both? Perhaps it was both. But Quasar lacked any self-awareness.
He bit his tongue when he glanced at Dovah, lowering his gaze momentarily to his paws, as the guilt shivered over his spine. He knew it was an accident. And, thankfully, most of the Clan believed that. But, intention or unintentional, Dovah still lost his sight because of him. He hated looking at Dovah, the walking proof of Quasar’s faults and weaknesses.
“I’m going. You can’t stop me. But I suppose you wouldn’t want to? Yeah. Time to repay Stryker for the food.” Quasar sounded exactly as scattered as he was inside his noggin, but the vaporwave mess didn’t recognize it, himself. “Lovely.”
[sup]can't let the hands of time[/sup] [sub]enslave us.[/sub] that's not how i'll go!
![[Image: 61105178_XgbiM0ZhRjllu9G.png]](https://f2.toyhou.se/file/f2-toyhou-se/images/61105178_XgbiM0ZhRjllu9G.png)
————— ⬆ ————— inquisitor — pansexy aro — descendants of the depths — tags ————— ⬇ —————
these memories fade to stardust, let's brave the world like the men we are