(This won't make much sense unless you've read the short story draft on the Updates and Information ~ Liëka)

There.

There He is.

Just as before.


The deer all crowd round him, and He sits there, lapping it up.


"My Lord?"
"....hello?"


"Don't you remember me?"


"Is it all these people? Is that what it is?"

"Just acknowledge me, please!"

"No! Don't leave! Don't leave me again!"


I wander.

With the Festival of the Dead, I am free. I have my own mind. But what freedom is this, to be hated and yet the one person I thought I could count on abandoning me.

I wander.

...

"...my Lord?"

"My little wolfhound."

"My Lord, I cannot carry on. Please, take me back with you again. The Gods, they punish me endlessly, and I am not allowed to die. Please, I'll do anything."


"That is not your choice to make!"

"What do you mean?!"

"That is not your choice! You are nobody! You are mine! You say you'll do anything? This is what I choose!"
"But it hurts! You know I have phases, it's fine when I don't think, but I can remember everything later!"


"And so, you identify the problem! You are my wolfhound, you must be straining on the chain! If you are not mad, I shall drive you so."
"But-"


"I shall drive you so. I curse you once more. I have cursed you thrice. You are mine."
"No... wait...."


"No..."


"You can't leave me like that..."


Waking up next morning.
Everything was wrong.


So bright... blinding... like the doves....
Then I saw a dove, and nearly passed out with the light. The bright. The rage.