Arguing always arguing.

“But you have to care!” she begged desperately, “If you don’t—“

“I do care, don’t you see? That’s the problem!” as patient as he was trying to be, his temper was threatening to once again overthrow him. “They’re in my way, holding me back, holding us back! The fact that I care at all is the only thing keeping me from throwing them out to the street!” he shouted this last part, no longer caring who—or what overheard. The anger and resentment he had been holding in his chest were about to break loose on the one person who ever cared for him; though certainly not the only person he cared for.

Just like before…

But then she spoke in a suddenly calm voice. “I know you’re angry, Ras, I would be too. And I don’t pretend that I’m not bothered by this whole situation either, but your father would have wanted—“

“My father would have wanted me dead.” Ras said darkly, his previous rage forgotten at the mention of his father. “He made it his life’s work, he did, killing off my kind, not even stopping to think that some of us are above mindless bloodlust.” He paused to take several deep breaths. These thoughts had bounded fiercely around his head for quite some time, like caged birds awaiting a chance for escape.

Arguing, like they used to do before he killed her…

“Ras…”

“Don’t, Eri, just don’t.” Old thoughts vented, Ras stumbled back inside the house to allow new thoughts to form. He looked around the room he was in; Eri’s room. Even in these dark times she still managed to make her room look as bright and cheery as the sun itself. He glanced back out at the balcony where he and Eri had just been having one of many arguments between them recently. She had pulled the thin curtain, but he could see her shadow against the moon. She looked to be crying. This unnerved Ras; Eri had never cried before they had started arguing, before they were forced to take shelter here, before any of this had begun. They had been happy then, as happy as a couple of friends, hated by some, seen as taboo by most, and generally looked down upon by most, can be. Their friendship had cost them many things even then, but now…

She wasn’t at fault, the innocent are forever being blamed…

A commotion was heard, coming from downstairs. Before Ras could think to react, Eri was already rushing past him to see what the disturbance had been. He followed after her, but without any of her urgency. It was most likely another purposed scuffle between two or more of the restless tenants, who tended to get incredibly cranky when cooped up in one place for any length of time. Sure enough, when he reached the bottom of the stairs he was greeted with the site of their nine guests; four being kept apart from the other five. Judging from the spattered meat on the walls and the knocked-over dinner table, the argument this time had, once again, been over food. Kept here for so long, and with only small food rations to feed them; Ras wasn’t surprised they were on edge. They aren’t the only ones reminded a voice in his head. It was right; Ras was just as much or more so on edge than any of them. He was just better to control it. “What in the name of all things hairy is it this time?” he roared. He knew he could be quite intimidating when he wanted to be. Like now.

I watched an innocent die and did nothing…

“Sarg was goin’ to steal the last of my ration! I saw him lookin’ at it, there’s no denyin’ it.” one of the guests bellowed back, pointing an accusing finger at another.

“Did no such thing you lying, stinking, filthy little pup! It was you who had your eyes on mine, sneaking peeks at everyone’s plate to see what you could take” Sarg came off more believably. Sober, for one thing.

Does that make me guilty as well?

After the accusations had been made, however, the two sides started at it again; yelling and shouting and making much more noise than was safe.

Perhaps it was because Ras was still in a rotten mood, or perhaps it was because these people were the very same who caused the argument which caused his bad mood, but he shouted “Enough! The next to speak won’t get food rations for a week, is that clear?” No one spoke, but a couple looked willing to risk loss of food if only to get that last word in. Ras looked from one to another, and they bowed their heads in submission. They weren’t stupid enough to bite the hand that fed them. “Now, clean this up, and no more of this pointless bickering. We’re all in the same boat here.” With much grumbling, but no complaints, they set to putting the room back to it’s usual state, that is to say, not quite clean, but disinfected enough to suffice. Eri, who had been standing in the middle until that moment, walked out of the room behind Ras and headed back up the stairs looking tired.

Please forgive me…

Ras wanted to follow her, but he knew it’d do no good. There was nothing he could say to ease what she was feeling; no more than he could ease his own turmoil. Heading up the stairs, he turned and took a hallway that led to the back of the house. In the corner, stood a latter, which he propped up to a hatch in the ceiling leading to the roof. He closed the door behind him after pulling up the latter; he wanted no interruptions. In the full moonlight he gazed at his arms. They were covered in white scars like the rest of his body. Reminders, they were, of his past, and of his survival; a curse here, a blessing there, some were burdins of mistakes, others trophies of victories. In a way, every scar had led him here, to this safe haven, instead of ending up like his mother. The first time he had stood on this roof he had vowed to revenge her death and mourned his loss. Now standing in the moonlight, he mourned her loss, and the loss of every one of his kind, fallen in these dark times, for they had lost more than he had. He was still alive.

I’m not like him, I’m not, I’m not, I’m not…