Bearclaw Valley It is time to call it quits.

When she returned the apology, he could do nothing but watch her as the seconds ticked by. It pained him that their relationship had come to an end, though his exterior was not quick to show it. He kept the feelings bottled up, storing them away inside himself in the hopes that, perhaps, they might fade away. So far, though, that'd yet to happen. He wanted to continue how things had been before, but it was already much too late. The words had been spoken, ending the bond they'd shared, and not even the strongest of glues would be capable of pulling them back together. He blamed himself more than anything else, in all honesty. He'd jumped into things too fast, allowed for his heart to go out to someone he didn't actually know all that well. Any other pair, no matter how long they'd been together, would know practically everything about their partner, and yet he found he did not know even a fraction of that much. The same went for her, though. Perhaps, had they'd learned more of one another before jumping into their relationship, there'd be no need for bottled up emotions. It was only a theory, however, something the Inuit had no way of proving or refuting.

When she, again, spoke, he gave an unconscious nod of his head. "I can't leave," he explained. "Even if I wanted to, I couldn't leave my children behind." Or the woman I love. The latter was added silently, thanks to his conscious, and he couldn't argue against it. Though their relationship was over, he could not deny the fact that she still held his heart. For the time being, anyways. Whether that was to change with time or not, he wasn't sure. He didn't know if it was even possible.