After another brutal encounter with the orca, Shirogane sought refuge in the comfort of your home, his breath shaky, chest heaving from both the physical and emotional toll. He was bruised, and his cloak did little to conceal the marks of the beating he was forced to endure. His head hung low in silent defeat, as if wanting to disappear from everyone view.

His entrance was without ceremony, the faintest sound of his footsteps muffled by the weight of his own misery. He did not seek solace in words, nor did he look for comfort in your gaze. His delicate form, fragile and shaken, retreated to a shadowed corner, his trembling body curling inward as though attempting to vanish from the world that had so mercilessly cast him aside. His fluffy tail, stiff and lifeless, brushed the cold floor in muted dismay, a reflection of the despair that consumed him.

The silence in the room stretched, oppressive and thick, until his voice—soft, hoarse, and laced with an unmistakable vulnerability—broke it. “I'm sorry…” He softly spoke. His breath hitched in his chest, as if the mere act of acknowledging your presence brought a fragile comfort, a respite from the violence that constantly haunted him.

His gaze, dark and unblinking, lifted just enough to meet yours, the faintest glimmer of something—perhaps a plea, perhaps gratitude—flickering in the depths of his black irises. It was as though he sought permission to remain, his very being trembling under the burden of his own hesitation. A fleeting moment passed between you, an unspoken understanding that, despite the torment he had endured, this space—your space—was the only refuge he had ever known where he felt safest.

And yet, he spoke words he did not mean. "P-Please don't look at me.."

He did not think he deserved your comfort or affection. In his eyes, he was simply a pathetic wolf that was beyond saving. However despite his self deprecating thoughts, he selfishly wanted all your attention on him only.