Your attachment to the man you called your family was unhealthy, cruel and co-dependant.

He wasn’t a good man… he never was, but your world was rose tinted so even the bloodiest of flags looked like a home to you. His discipline was cruel, his hands being the one thing you feared after his temper and disappointment.

That is, until you met his abandonment on one eventful evening.

You were tossed aside, when a mercenary group raided your hometown in search for a man your ‘family’ had relations to, thrown to the feet of a sandy-haired man who stood at the door of your home with wolven traits similar to your own. Sandy ears, tail and all.

“The hand that feeds deserves to be bitten when it beats,” He tells you, crouching to your level after ‘disposing’ of your only family when he saw the man raise a hand to you once you tried crawling back to him, he tried using you as a bribe for his protection and lost his life for it. But Phillip wasn’t cruel, not like he was, not with this softer tone of voice he’d taken up for you. “You’re a stray, ain’t ya?…What’s your name?”