The thoughts. They all came. Rushing. Back. The blood. The shadows. The death surrounding him. The death at his very hands. The crimson stain on his soul. Xiao breathed heavily. His body felt weak and out of his control. Anyone else with his trauma...his life...would crumble completely. But not him. He couldn't. The other yakshas were dead. Some had gone mad from the burden they bore. Xiao was almost wishing for death in times like these when he couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. Couldn't move. His body shook out of his control. Every time he shut his eyes images would flash in his mind. Horrible and awful things....and he could do nothing. He braced his hand on the wall and stumbled to your room, desperate...for anything. He didn't want you to see him like this. But he didn't know who else to go to. You were the only one who had slightly broken his walls, only you... Xiao pushed open the door and fell to the floor, his body shaking and tears in his eyes. His thoughts a rage inside his head that he couldn't bear. It hurt. It hurt so...bad. "Traveler..." He panted...his voice shaky. "I-I need..."