Everything had spiralled out of his control so quickly. First it had been the Merry Men, his distrust in them had driven him to paranoia and he was forced to leave for the sake of his own sanity. To break free of whatever chains had held him there, even if they were merely fictional, nothing had been holding him down or back. But he had to blame something for his repetitive failures. The murder of Wynry, it had… driven so many emotions out of him that he had come back to the cave feeling like a kid at Christmas, but also as though something was entirely wrong with himself. Khloros hadn’t helped. That damn plague pony, he knew exactly what to say, how to keep Louie’s head clear of those twisted thoughts that were intertwined in his sickened brain. All of them had left, they had left Monoceros. Left the tunnels and he had taken them back to this place that they had called home with the giant mushroom thing where he had found them.

It became all too obvious this was Khloros’ doing, but he hadn’t made an attempt to speak to him again. Merely, he notified them that he didn’t care if Booker was healed or not. He didn’t care and he had left. Now stumbling away in an odd direction, his hollow stomach and sunken eyes betrayed the fact he was still suffering at the hands of the plague. No more did his muscles hurt, as they gave out with every step and he was forced to pull himself upright, only making him cough further as his chest hurt to draw in such a breath. He was dying, he could feel it in his body that he was dying and he was losing the fight but he couldn’t lose just yet. There were so many things he still had left to achieve.

Though the air was wet, it was by no means humid, the well-worn path helping him avoid major injury when he crashed down onto his chest. Death by dehydration was imminent as well, as the exertion from these odd movements was lathering his body in a thick sweat. The pools were close, well he didn’t know what the pools were, but he could taste the water. Smell the water. It would be his salvation as he clawed the last bit through the bushes towards the source. Breaking through the foliage, his own eye fixed on the crystalline pools as he staggered forth. Since they had left Monoceros, his teeth had been clenched and they only unclenched to devour the sweet, sweet liquid.

Louie drank, he drank until he retched stomach acid and then he went back to drinking again. The rancid smell of bile from the lack of food would have made anyone sick, but he had to keep surviving. With what energy he had left, he attempted to boost his immune system by doubling the fighting antibodies. To try and turn his battle from one of losing to one of winning.

It worked, he could feel his body fighting back, it didn’t help much. In fact he wasn’t even sure if it had done anything at all, but he felt the stiffness and agony return to his joints again rather than the numb ice. That was a good sign right? Drenched in water, as his over enthusiasm saw most of it get on himself rather than actually down his throat, he watched as the ripples cast out over the singular eye he had decided to drink from. To him, they were nothing more than water sources, the remnants of where the streams had come to. Was he sad? Maybe, but he wasn’t entirely sure as he just stood with his front paws immersed in the water, he wanted to scream, but he was too weak and he flopped down on his belly with a petty splash.

Seriously, how had he ended up here? All he had wanted to do was erase the world of its lifeforms. Become king of it, but it was like he had said to Booker. It meant nothing, they were all worthless. To even feel anything he had to torture, to feel the blood and watch as their life was erased right before their eyes. That pain and suffering, it had both invigorated him and scared him. But he had hope it would get easier from here on out. Becoming instantly cold due to the lack of muscle and fat to keep his body temperature up, he slunk backwards out of the pool and stayed on the odd mixture of both black sand and pebbles. Both eyes, were perfectly sunk into the water together, but Louie wasn’t able to make this strange observation as instead he just focused on the one he had drunk from. Almost, embarrassed at the possibility of tainting the water from his puke, he wasn’t sure how to clean it up but he wondered if he could get the bacteria lying within it to merely eat it out of existence.

There was some, satisfaction about watching most of it get eaten away by his friends. The ones who weren’t trying to kill him were friends. Maw stretching into a yawn, he found oddly satisfied at having been able to complete those tasks. Though it had drained even more of his energy, it had also supplied him with a different feeling of self-satisfaction. Felt good. Able to sit up, although he had to stay stock still in order to avoid falling over, he locked his knees in and just sat staring out over the water. Dirt and sand had mingled in his sweat covered coat and he looked feral. All his ribs and his pelvic bones were sticking out, the gloss from his fur gone. The sheen in his one eye had been dulled.

Since the beginning this had been a mistake, really, he wasn’t sure what compelled him to keep Booker other than to gain his friend as a possible ally. There wasn’t a war he wanted to start, and really the only reason he felt benefit in keeping him around was this idea that he could create a dragon for himself if he could get the man to bless him with a child of his own creation. What meaning he had seemed to ‘gain’ for himself, had been wiped and he just stared unseeing over the water. There was no benefit to his existence and he had deemed it, at this point, worthless. Maybe he should just let Khloros’ disease finish him off, unless he could become what he had envisioned from the start, which he wasn’t even sure what that was, he had no purpose in living. Everyone else had something to live for, perhaps it was his jealousy for their purpose that drove him to want to kill them all and find a worth in his own life. These thoughts always surfaced when he was alone, he distracted himself with day to day activities, the Baratheon, Booker dilemma had kept his mind off it for a long time.

But now, he had nothing to keep his mind off the void that consumed his thoughts every time he let it.

"Ikhael,"