Stone Circle I could lie awake

illecebra corrals cyron inside the den and he tries his best to hide the slight quicken in his breath as he is forced within the confines. it should bring him safety but all he feels is caged. once this den was a safe haven and now it reminds him too much of wolf skull cave and it’s pressing stalagmites that had blocked most of the cave’s mouth from ceiling to floor like the jagged teeth of some mighty, ancient beast. the walls and ceiling of a den that had once been the source of great happiness for him causes a tighten of anxiety in cyron’s chest and it takes all of his willpower not to rush right back out of it. there was no way he would be able to spend long periods of time in here, far too close to his place of keeping as a captive but he can’t find the voice to speak this hard truth. not to his mother who is so obviously happy to have him back. his demons are his own burden to carry, to face down; and he does not want to worry his parents anymore than he already has. it is warmer in the den then it is outside but he yearns for that biting chill, for the vast expense of open sky that reminds him that he is liberated.

his movements are stiff but he tries to curl in on himself in an effort to make the den feel bigger ( it did not work ) and he tries his best not to let his discomfort show as he lays down beside his mother. cyron is quiet as she speaks — though quiet is more or less his new normal — his ear twitching when she chokes on her words. he presses his muzzle to her’s briefly before she begins to groom him communicating it’s ok. he doesn’t blame her for anything — the only blame belongs at the paws of blackfeather woods; and one day when he was strong and skilled he would seek retribution for what they've done to him.