Neverwinter Forest on a black throne reigns upright

Rian, somehow, didn't feel any twinge of discomfort at the sight of Cypress' emotional breakdown. In fact, he welcomed it—relishing in the chance to witness just how normal wolves react to heartache. Somehow, he hadn't quite reached the peak of his distress and had instead learned to bury it for a later time—repeat ad infinitum until the hurt ceased to be so raw. In this moment he was almost living vicariously through his cousin, though he was entirely unaware of it. The only thing he understood was the hurt (a demon he was incredibly familiar with) and the need to be a pillar for Cypress as a result. A boy who'd lost not just his father, but everyone.

The wild idea that had sprang forth like a wild creature was now taking root in their hearts, and Rian was aching to see it bloom. He didn't react when his cousin drew away, and sat patiently unmoving as his haunting yellow eyes searched the plains of his face before settling on his own sunken gaze. A moment passed quickly through his mind as instinct rallied, and tried to wrest control of the situation, but Rian remained staunchly supportive and allowed the eidolon to observe freely. 

A question fell from Cypress' lips that Rian had, frankly, not considered. His siblings. What was to become of them if he left? Would they support him? Or would they call upon their mother and, together, lash chains to his ankles and trap him forever in the sinking ship that was his former home. The O'Malley boy sat, dumbstruck, until his mouth twisted into a grimace and the skin around his eyes tightened. "I... don't know. You're the first one I've told about this. They might think I'm crazy." He admitted softly.