OH ROCK BOTTOM ☆ caustic

Caustic was rather detested by his own weaknesses. Back home, they were easily thwarted. He had medications for his illness and a prosthetic for his hand, but now he lacked both and his coughing was steadily getting worse. Another reason he needed to get out of here- being in this dimension greatly decreased the number of years he had left. If his disease or the wild didn't kill him first, it would be the wolf's own years. Caustic could have lived another twenty to thirty, easy, but now? He had six years at best. Three, more likely. He wondered, briefly, if he would have to start sourcing herbs for his cough, and such tasks sounded painfully tedious.
He looked back to Micheal now, his face pulling together to resume his hardened stare, another visual warning to say nothing about his cough, then relaxed as Micheal spoke of Octavio again. He felt his ears lay flat at the questioning, but his tail flapped against the cave floor at the thought of the speedster's chest cavity opened before him.
"Well..." The mug was empty. He grimaced. "You could say something like that. Octavio desired for certain things only I and I alone could provide him. It's mutual." They fight, they embrace, Octavio dies. A relationship of mutual understanding and absolutes.
It was a far cry away from what he had with Luc before Octavio came knocking on his door, but the speedster's blood on his hands could never replace Luc's fingers interlocking with his own.

[abbr=Dark Northwestern Wolf, 4 Years, gas leaks from his mouth and nose]TAGS[/abbr] • PLAYLIST • PENNED BY OWLIE

THERE'S ONLY ONE WAY OUT

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