Big Salmon Lake 'cause it's home, but it's gone

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It is a strange thing to Mato to think that not everyone else is exposed to that same type of thinking when it comes to life — that it is a never-ending cycle of life and death and rebirth but he knows that he is an outlier in it. He is suddenly filled with a great gratitude towards his father for sharing it with him. Perhaps, he thinks, if he does nothing else as Naturalist he can offer his view to others in the hopes that if they do not believe it themselves then it will, at least, perhaps offer some sort of comfort to have been given the perspective. The empyrean’s ears taper and flutter back against his skull in unspoken gratitude, unpretentious when Rannoch offers that it is a beautiful way to think of it. Mato can only take credit for taking that simple lesson of life and turning it towards his passion. As the ambal colored male deigns to pick his brain for more lessons Mato’s cheeks creep with a flush of heat that he is glad his star-kissed fur hides from view. He is not sure he has any more lessons to share but there is a swell of hurt pride beneath his breast at the thought of having to admit that. He is young and though he speaks well and is knowledgable on what he knows he is still learning. Still a istyar. “I am still an istyar — a student. There is still much I don’t know.” The druid humbles himself before his soon-to-be leader regardless of the smart of the words. Mato does not think he has anything else to offer Rannoch and worries that it will lessen the older boy’s opinion of him.

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