Silvertip Mountain Severed souls

Mason gasped in a dry sob as his Dad suddenly turned back into… Dad. He closed the distance and pressed his larger muzzle into Mason’s fur. The boy felt almost like his legs had turned to jelly and would wobble away beneath him. FitzDutiful offered words as soft as petals, confirming that he didn’t know and that he was sorry.

There was another blow – if he had had known, FitzDutiful wouldn’t have mated with her! Well, yet again his own stupidity appeared to have caused him the worst scenario.

Mason stood limply, as close to his Dad as he could get. It wasn’t an easy situation, and surely it would subside eventually. He wanted his Dad to be happy – he knew that now. How could he hate his Dad? Maybe he had thought it in those many self-serving moments of selfishness. But he never really felt it. This was the man who had put he and June above all else. He clearly expected that Zaria would add to their family, not detract from it.

“I don’t hate you Dad.” Mason’s voice wobbled like his legs. “I’m sorry I feel this way. I’ve been tryin’ not to, and it’s getting better.”  Easier day by day. Maybe one day he would laugh at this puppy love he had felt. “I love you Dad.” Mason said, and he reached up to lick his Dad’s cheek.