zg_shadows | Giving Up? A Stands-Ready Piece

Some quick headspace stuff, following on from today's game. Not very good, but I'm tired and not feeling well.

It's late, nearly time for the curfew to begin, but after the pubs and bars have thrown everyone out on the streets. Michael has been walking for hours, not seeing anything, lost in his own thoughts. He should probably make for home, or for Biers, or somewhere. To go find Meg. But the thoughts won't leave him alone.

Where do they get off? Unity comes here, was sent here, to give me some warnings. To tell me what she's heard. Three things, and one of them's not even right. The rest? I thought this was my territory, to be respected by others. My place, my choice of what goes on. I choose my friends, I choose who I will allow in my Caern. And if they aren't Garou, then so be it. At least one of them has been more use to the Nation than most Garou, and another I have to look after, because there's no-one else who can. But it's my call. Not theirs.

Maybe this whole fucking ungrateful Garou Nation can go hang for now. In the last few months, I've taken this Sept, started to sort out some of the problems we've had, defended the Caern, and led these people. And this is what I get? And I could've...

A memory flares in his mind. A beautiful dark-haired girl sits on a bed, the room lit by candles, the oversized hat falling to one side as she tilts her head, and asks, "Why you Sept Alpha? We could just walk away from here - go travelling - find somewhere clean and fresh and open."

Maybe I should...

And he keeps walking.