Sickly - An Errorink Drabble

thirty three

The forest was, mostly, quiet. He sobbed, really the only other noise. He could just barely hear the screams of the citizens still left alive, smell the smoke of what he had managed to destroy before running off into the forest. Pain, everything was pain. Rolled up into a snowbank, back to a tree, the cold had already bit deep into his bones. He couldn't move. His soul hurt. Everything hurt. He had overused his magic tenfold. So many AUs either gone or permanently dented. Was this where he died? He would die anyway, if not here, it didn't matter.