First impressions were crucial, and Adam was adamant about assuring he would gain some favour. Naturally, the dark-haired man knew not everybody would fancy his presence, but being viewed as a friendly, benevolent soul went miles. Crafting a persona that contradicted his norms allowed him to avoid detection inside the flock. Thus, he would bah and munch on grass until he could sink his razor-sharp teeth into flesh.

- Adam Ainsley

was reminded of an old ship and had to go back to read some of their sad ass content:


He trembled in her arms and Victoria had no way of knowing how to still him. Never before had she seen Matt in such a delicate light, scared and choking on his own words, nothing more than incomplete thoughts springing from his chattering teeth. He was fragile, vulnerable, and the desire to offer him comfort, security pushed its way to the top of her, superseding all previous thoughts and emotions. "Don't," she whispered to him, head shaking against his jacket. "You don't have to."

And he didn't. He didn't owe her an apology of any sort. Didn't owe her anything, really, since she'd had a hand in pushing him so far away. If she had been more reasonable, more understanding, perhaps he would have stayed. Perhaps he wouldn't have felt so on the outs. The idea that she had been so callous toward his plight was going to sit with her and eat away at her until she met the grave. In her heart of hearts, she knew that she had been a terrible partner. The fact that he'd even returned to their flat was more than she deserved.