[ One by one, the pieces of his heart pull away, radiating back horror and disgust and rage at what they've seen inside him, until he's once again empty and alone. His arms are still extended in the shape of Wolfwood's body, around the ghost of a man that for one moment he got to hold as he falls to his knees, too tired to stand on his own any longer.
He hurt Nai.
One shaking hand reaches up, tangling around the roots of the nearest clump of feathers, and he digs his nails in as hard as he can. Blood bubbles up as he tears the handful free, scattering red-tinged feathers into the street around him.
He hurt Wolfwood.
A second handful follows the first, the pain when the feathers rip free making him gasp. But they have to come out – he has to stop. He's hurt so many people. This thing that he is, this creature, this monster, this eruption of half-formed life that destroys everything it touches – he needs it gone.
He even hurt the echo of himself, the him that isn't him.
Handful by handful, he'll pull the feathers from his skin until he looks human again, or until the pain and exhaustion knock him unconscious. He doesn't really care which comes first. ]
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He hurt Nai.
One shaking hand reaches up, tangling around the roots of the nearest clump of feathers, and he digs his nails in as hard as he can. Blood bubbles up as he tears the handful free, scattering red-tinged feathers into the street around him.
He hurt Wolfwood.
A second handful follows the first, the pain when the feathers rip free making him gasp. But they have to come out – he has to stop. He's hurt so many people. This thing that he is, this creature, this monster, this eruption of half-formed life that destroys everything it touches – he needs it gone.
He even hurt the echo of himself, the him that isn't him.
Handful by handful, he'll pull the feathers from his skin until he looks human again, or until the pain and exhaustion knock him unconscious. He doesn't really care which comes first. ]