[ Giovanni's not exactly wrong. Fenris means nothing outside of what he means to the Company. He has no other identity, no foundation of memory or friends or family. Sometimes he tries to reach for those things, as though he can push past his ruined mind if he just concentrates hard enough. But it never works. He has only nonsense fragments; voices that don't make sense, images that don't feel authentic or recognizable.
Like right now, for instance.
The blood splatters onto his boots and pants; the woman's dying moan echoes low and choked in Fenris's sharp ears. He watches her gory collapse with apparent dispassion, but his eyes suddenly widen as Giovanni rears back. The collar glints in the twilight darkness, and its small gleam suddenly blinds him, overwhelms him.
He staggers back, clutching at the side of his face. A powerful image bursts open in his mind's eye. Himself, dressed differently--strange leather, no shoes--and kneeling before a shadowy figure. There's an iron collar clamped tightly around his neck. The shadow holds the leash.
He sucks in air. His eyes are open, he's sure, but this--memory? hallucination?--is all he sees. ]
Venhedis.
[ That foreign word again, rising like bile in his throat. ]
no subject
Like right now, for instance.
The blood splatters onto his boots and pants; the woman's dying moan echoes low and choked in Fenris's sharp ears. He watches her gory collapse with apparent dispassion, but his eyes suddenly widen as Giovanni rears back. The collar glints in the twilight darkness, and its small gleam suddenly blinds him, overwhelms him.
He staggers back, clutching at the side of his face. A powerful image bursts open in his mind's eye. Himself, dressed differently--strange leather, no shoes--and kneeling before a shadowy figure. There's an iron collar clamped tightly around his neck. The shadow holds the leash.
He sucks in air. His eyes are open, he's sure, but this--memory? hallucination?--is all he sees. ]
Venhedis.
[ That foreign word again, rising like bile in his throat. ]