What went wrong? He was just with me moments ago and now...He's gone. It's almost like it happened in a blink of an eye.
"Forget the rat the Baron wants him" those words still torment me. I shouldn't of left him..Ran away like a coward. Who knows what they're doing to Jak now. I don't want to think about it..If I do my eyes will well up more than they are now and the tears will come floodin' out like a river. That or I'll throw up since I don't know what horrors I'm leaving him to face.
What kind of friend am I? Leaving him to get captured by some mystery man and his guards. I'm only two foot tall but I feel like I could of at least said somethin' instead of running off and leaving him alone..Will he ever forgive me for that? I don't even know if I can forgive myself for that..I understand if you want to be mad at me Jak. I'd be mad at me too.
Daxter sighed as the rain started to fall rather heavily, making his orange and buttercup fur become quickly drenched and stick to him. This made motion hard and it lowered his visibility as his fur covered his tear filled cerulean eyes. The orange ottsel quickly scurried for shelter into a nearby bar entrance, shaking his fur off once he'd entered the dry cover. His fur puffed up making him look like a small orange cloud. Daxter sighed hugging his overly fluffy body, physically feeling like he was shaking thanks to his cold wet fur and thanks to the events that had unfolded.
He and Jak was incredibly close. He always had sat on his shoulder since he'd turned into a half otter half weasel hybrid and now he was without that comfortable surprisingly warm shoulder and seeing that bright golden and green hair. He was thinking about Jak more now and missing him more and more. He thought maybe without him around he'd get killed or he'd go insane. "J-Jak" Daxter muttered as tears began to trickle down his furry buttercup muzzle and his fangs began to chatter. He held his face with small hands covered with brown fingerless gloves.
Where can I find him? Where can I look? T-This city is huge...W-What if I never find him...D-Don't think that Daxter..You'll find him no matter how long it takes...
He pushed his fur off his eyes as tears continued to fall down his face and his heart began to feel like it was going to break. He probably looked like a mess but he didn't care, he was in a city filled with strangers and all he wanted was to be reunited with his best friends Jak and Keira and maybe just maybe see grandpa green again. He'd wait for the heavy rain to die down before he went out searching. Just so then his fur wouldn't get more wet and hinder his movement. Daxter looked up and outside, by now the rain seemed to reflect his sorrowful mood as the salty tears dribbled down his chin and his lip wobbled.
He felt like he'd lost a huge part of himself but the way he was crying was probably making others think he'd found out someone he cared about died..Who knows..Those guards had guns so they could of killed Jak by now..But wouldn't that defeat the purpose of "the Baron wants him"? Daxter scurried outside deciding not to care about the rain anymore and began to cry out for Jak screeching his name over and over until his voice began to get hoarse. "J-Jak?!" Daxter croaked, fur becoming soaking wet again and tears leaking down his face. He'd been scurrying around and shouting out Jak's name for hours and his throat felt like it was on fire.
His legs burned so much. They collapsed under him and the ottsel fell onto the wet ground with a small thud. "I-I wanna go home..I want to be back with Jakkie boy.." he croaked as his small ears drooped and he waited for the rain to go. He wanted a familiar hand to stroke his wet fur in a comforting motion. He wanted that hand to be Jak's. He wanted to look up and see silent cerulean eyes look at him and silent plea's of sorrow to be expressed through them along with muted words of comfort. He wanted to see those eyes that held a thousand different expressions again and that shone brighter than a thousand suns.
I'll find you Jak..No matter how long it takes...
