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Summary
Shiro pauses on a ledge, closes his eyes to try and enjoy the short, mild breeze. It cools the sweat on his skin. A splash of color draws his attention and he peers at it. It looks like blood on the rock, mostly dried. He wets a finger and dabs the spot, before tasting whatever came off on his finger. There’s something familiar about it, and Shiro almost swears it tastes like- but no, that can’t be right. Another of his senses must be damaged.
Besides, he tastes something he does know in there. Galra.
His mind is playing tricks on him.
Shiro barely remembers a time before instincts were his entire existence. The tides are changing though and fate seems to be trying to bring him something. He doesn't know if it's a gift or a curse. A thread of hope or damnation. But he's going to see this through to the end.
Series
- Part 1 of The Wolf Who Swallowed A Star