So much anger.
Boiling over, burning, scorching. All that's left is mindless, thoughtless rage. Helpless rage. You move, faster then light, faster then blinking, ever onwards- you know where. You know where you're going. Of course you do it. Know it down to the marrow of your bones, know it with every feather of your wings. You've always known it.
It was all a lie.
A pointless, stupid, wasteful lie. Pointless. You don't even feel the tears slicking your fur and feathers against your scales. You're miserable, vocalizing it the only way you know, fins rubbing together, a growl filling the silent desert air. It hurts, you realize dimly in a corner of your mind. You can feel the membrane tearing and ripping as it catches sand in it.
Nothing more then a beast.
No, not even a beast. A monster, a waste of space. Useless. Not meant to exist- never meant to exist. No mouth- not in the traditional sense, at least. Fins- but you don't swim, you hate water. And your wings, your tail- so much pain when someone touches them, if they rub wrong or grip at all. And now, now, you can't pretend it was all for a reason, can't pretend you have a purpose. No one would care if you died, disappeared.
Mandra would. Mandra would care.
Not if he knew. He wouldn't care if he knew. Knew how useless you were. How stupid- No. He already knows you're stupid. You can't even write properly. Couldn't protect him- let that wizard blind you, let that man hit you- useless, useless, useless. All you are is trouble, that's all you are.
Can't even eat like him.
You can't, can you? Can't even bear to let him see how you eat. You know, you know he's trustable, you know he won't hurt you, would never hurt you- but you can't. You're weak, stupid, selfish. Don't want him to know how much of a freak you really are. You keep walking, talons clicking on metal floor, sand collecting beneath your scales as you near.
There, yes. Your cell, your home. Always your home- no, the cave is home. but would Mandra want you? Want you, in all your useless, selfishness? ...No. No one would. You stand in the middle of your cell, staring at what once was your home- and you never realize, that you are crying.