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“Fuck.”

Brand stared at the tree in front of him, breaths sawing. At the glowing highlights in its bark and the deep, shadowy grooves. At the crimson rivulets running between them.

Such a sweet boy. Such a perfect boy. Such a dear boy. Such a darling boy. Such a good boy.

He rammed his horns into the trunk again, peeling away more of the tree’s outer shell, the bits raining down his front.

Such a sweet boy.

Again.

Such a perfect boy.

Again.

Such a dear boy.

Again.

Such a darling boy.

Again.

Such. A. Good. Boy.

Again. Again. Again.

His roar split the world.

Birds scattered from the branches in a panic, luminescence trailing from their feathers as they squawked their irritation down at him. Sisters, if only Brand was one of them. There was no such thing as a simple life with memories like his. When they refused to get out of his stupid fucking head.

A head that was throbbing, blood from the lacerations dribbling into his eyes.

Fuck.

Well, at least he knew with certainty that he couldn’t physically beat the words away, no matter how hard he tried. There was a twisted sort of comfort in knowing what not to do. One less thing to worry about.

Luna would lose her stars-damned mind if she saw him doing this.

Brand huffed, caught between laughing and crying as he dug trembling fingertips into his closed eyelids. The sparks that flashed behind them were the closest thing to Solyrian these days. Which, fuck Nachthelliae. Honestly. How in the realms was anyone meant to be normal when it was fucking impossible to see anything? When there was no bloody sunshine to combat the gloom?

He drew in deep breaths, hissing as the change slowly came over him and his wounds seemed to multiply. Half the time it took yesterday, but still abysmal.

Scrubbing both hands over his face, Brand looked up, head tilting.

Was he really that damned big in his greater form? Even reaching up, jumping, he wasn’t able to touch the marks he made.

Huh.

Wait, was he actually hopping at a tree that his greater arsehole mangled for no good reason just to see if he could reach his own head?

He was. Sisters save him, he really was.

Brand’s wheezing barks of laughter were not in the least amused. He couldn’t decide if it was better or worse than the hours he spent in front of the nearby portal with toll in hand, shaking as he fought with himself over whether to stay or go. Trying to figure out if it would hurt worse to stay away from her and heal or be with her and broken.

He’d laughed then, too. Right before he screamed and chucked the ivory curl of Lyriat’s horn into the bushes.

Shite, he was already losing his mind.