Dragoncrest Cliffs anger is the more productive cousin of fear

In another state of mind, Artaax may have been amused by how the tables had turned between he and Blixen. Usually, he was the one showing disapproval for her rash actions. Now, he was the one on the receiving end of her ire, even though he was not present enough in the moment to appreciate it. She was far more verbal about her displeasure than he ever was, though. Even now, he didn't say a word as his eyes locked on her and she shouted at him about the state of his mouth. Her meaning was lost on him, and he remained perfectly quiet as his gaze trailed away and he searched the trees for nomi.

When another did arrive, it was not who he had anticipated. Portia approached swiftly, inspecting the scene and setting straight to work attending to him. He didn't move as she circled him and leaned close with her nose to the torn flesh at his shoulder. His ears flattened  and he shut his eyes tight as she posed her hurried question. The boy didn't care to explain the situation to anyone but his mother, and couldn't have fumbled his way into the words even if he'd tried. He didn't know what to say. He didn't know how to say it. He didn't know how to feel about what he'd done. Everyone was nervous, anxious, angry, tense. There were so many reasons to explain the rampant emotions, and he needed to know if they were caused by concern for him or disgust at what he'd done. He needed to know if this awful, sickening guilt was deserved. He had been taught to defend Drageda. He had not been taught to murder. Had he? Was it murder? He had KILLED SOMEONE.

Nomi. His eyes snapped open in a flash, pointed directly at the heda as she stood, staring in shock at the scene before her. Blixen was explaining, but the accusation in her voice bounced harmlessly off of him. He stared at his mother, pleadingly. She always knew what to do. She always knew what he needed. Artaax would follow her commands to his own death if she gave them, and so he clung to the actions she had yet to take whether they were taken to forgive or condemn. Anything to escape this terrible in between.