Devon grumbled and looked away from the medic, did he even really want to be out of there? He'd have to return to the training grounds, be broken in by a new rider. He wondered who they would choose to claim him, normally it was the shifter who would die, not the rider. He'd probably some masochistic ass to break him with his luck, the shifter knew he was too stubborn to be given to some new rider. Kidda had known how to work with him, it was almost as if they read eachother's minds, but he wouldn't get that lucky again. He couldn't get Kidda back. He growled, deep and painful, throwing his pillow across the room in anger, a rip in the seam spilling out feathers as it hit the opposite wall. 

Covering his face in his hands, Devon shuddered as he tried to clear his mind again, but all he wanted to do was tear everything in his sight apart. He just wanted to leave this room, this war, this... could he just leave? His mind stopped and changed directions, could he just leave and never come back? No, on second thought, he was too valuable to do that and not be followed. He would be hunted down and taken back in. Maybe if they weren't at war, but the battles weren't likely to end soon.