Bitterroot Valley shaken not stirred

He could picture the boy, a perfect blend of his parents, and it brought a small flicker of a smile on his lips, but it died quickly as she faltered at the mention of their personalities. It was a cold reminder that he had fallen far from the high cloud he previously floated on, and he slumped, his head hanging, as she worried that she had caused it. Luke swallowed thickly, feeling anxiety clutch at his heart as he warred inwardly. "I.." he started, but his voice quavered and he had to draw a deep breath to steady himself enough to continue.

"No," answered the white wolf. "It was not you. I don't... I don't know why, how... His face shifted into a myriad of conflicted expressions as he struggled to articulate. But the truth was the attack on him had really messed with his mind, and he spun out of control for reasons he could not fathom. He thought he knew, and understood, that it was a mere thirst for taking control back of his life, but, somehow he knew also that that alone was not it.

"I was attacked," he said as he lifted his head, and tried to draw strength from the face in front of him. Perhaps she had wronged him, but she was here now, and it was obvious even to him that she cared. "By a mountain lion. I was beaten and ra—" he swallowed hard. "Ra... Rape... d..." In an instant his jaws clenched, and the sorry sod before here became the hard and wrathful beast that had harmed a friend of his, tried to claim another, and had done the same crime against another male that had been done unto him.

Ears slicked against his skull, his eyes burning holes into the ground he now stared at, he trembled as he lowly declared. "I have so much anger."