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Gavin Chase

can't beat the devil out of me

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He wasn't sure what he was doing anymore. He'd been in Corinth for a few years now and the werebear was just... So unbelievably, inextricably, tired. He was tired of the drama and the bullshit but above all else, he was tired of the run of bad luck he'd been having as of late. Maybe he should've taken over his father's sleuth and just gotten it the fuck over with. It was either unavoidable or out of his hands lately, it seemed. He hated feeling powerless. He was a bear, for fuck's sake.

One would think he would be able to take on all of life's challenges, swinging, but instead... instead, he was stuck in second gear. He didn't like where he was at but had no clue how to change it. In fact, it could almost be argued that he dreaded lots of shit and all of that shit just kept piling the fuck up. He pinched the bridge of his nose before taking off his clothes and putting them into a neat, little pile. The snow was frigid on the bottoms of his feet but soon enough, it wouldn't matter. The shift didn't take long, thankfully, otherwise he might have had other issues... like his blue nads freezing off and falling into the snow. As it was, though he certainly didn't make a habit of looking, he could kind of guess what they looked like and it wasn't a pretty image.

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