CW: Thoughts of suicide, abuse, Transphobia.

Rain slick chill creeping down his back. The drip against the nose a constant reminder of the cold his face was accustomed to. 

It had been like this for hours. Trudging away. Seeking nothing. Seeking anything. 

Moments like this make 'anything' seem like a welcome change. The lights streaking by beside him. A step would be all it took. Just a step. Or two. Until the two lights barreling towards him would be enough to end it. 


He was staring to forget how to look at anything as his eyes glazed over. The sluggish walking ending as he noticed he was standing on the road where his body slowed to a stand still. 

The rain was drowning as it blocked his ears from hearing anything, his eyes from seeing anything with fur and hair over it,  and no thoughts in his mind in the slightest. 

But even as Pocket stood there to wait, it never came. The two lights came to a stop. The door opened, expensive shoes clicked on the wet pavement. A silhouetted canine loomed. One hand in pocket.

He flinched slightly at the lights but was curious why it stopped. Only to pause as he heard the clatter of rich loafers on asphalt come to a stop. 

“How long were you standing here, waiting?” He asked.


His words were commanding but soft, familiar. 
Pocket had no real response...he wasn't tracking time, but it didn't matter. 

He soon felt the strain and exhaustion on his knees increase and soon take hold as he dropped quickly to the floor.


The water trickling around the legs almost made Pocket space out entirely.

He was plagued by the disassociation of vague details from just a few hours ago. A flash of blood, blood curdling screams and the wet and cold thereafter. What little he could cling to wasn't pleasant.

He remembered feeling the shake in his hands when they first said he was unclean.
He remembered the other kids shying away in fear at first, and shunning when he was coveted. 
He remembered the painful pops of bone and sinew trained to trigger at the sound of the gong. 
He remembered the hours of twisting emptiness in his stomach when he refused to obey the gong.
He remembered the warmth of laughter and applause when he flourished his dress, and the sting of the beating when the curtain fell.
He remembered the brief comfort of flourishing cold steel rotating effortlessly in his hand, as if it was the only thing that understood her.
He remembered the strain on his jaw when he was pat on the back; rewarded with a warm handshake and flashes of hot lights behind lenses.
He remembered his cynical and bitter muttering to what others might have called a friend:

'Being different's okay so long as it makes you useful.' 

The memories didn't feel important; more like scars he wanted to scratch at. But as his hand reached to clutch his shoulder, the canine offered a hand. It seemed to flicker in the rain slightly. but there was a definite sign a physical body was underneath the surface of that layer. He seemed like a sleep paralysis demon in that moment; but his words offered clarity.  

"You can either stay on the side of the road, or we can go somewhere warm. I know where I'd rather be, if I were you."

Pocket wanted to agree. 'anywhere but here.' But toxic wisdom implored silence. 

So all he did was nod.

In his early days as a Facilitator, Darkwitt was criticized for being a bleeding heart. Wasting resources on people that had no short term benefit or are far too costly to rehabilitate. But he's been down that road before. That dark notion of futility and impotent rage was all too familiar to him. Everyone deserves the chance to take control of their demons and do better. 

This is a bit of a different piece but served as a gift to commemorate a longtime friendship and service Visia's had with me. When I first met her, she was pocketwolf. Someone who was still coming to terms with who they were in an environment ill equipped to address her needs. As time went on, she found her way, and now lives a much better life.

I couldn't be prouder of her. 

Thank you for this gift, Visia. I hope you find further success and happiness as you continue finding your way. 

Art by Gardenkaiser