Stone Circle alive in quiet destruction and unmoving

there was no comparison to be made and it wasn't fair for either of them to claim their experiences were worse than the other's. cyron is not sure what 'hell' that they'd put the stranger, his ex-wife and children through ... cyron only knows what hell he lived. what hell he still lives. the man tells him that he has easthollow and family; in a sense it's true. but cyron still feels just as alone as he had in wolfskull cave. it's like a soldier returning from war: he can't describe what he went through, he can't tell anyone because he does not want to burden them, because he knows they won't understand, not really. when the walls of home feel like prison and his family's den feels like a cage ...it's not anything he can ever explain unless someone went through something similar.

it's utterly unfair for the strange man to basically say that he should be all better because he has home and hearth. cyron knows that's not how it works. his words don't leave cyron feeling inspired. they leave him feeling insulted, attacked, insignificant and distanced. like there is a bubble where everyone else resides in and he has his own bubble floating outside of theirs, gravitating close like the moon does the earth but never touching. "our experiences aren't comparable. stop acting superior, like you suffered worse than me, stop trying to make it sound like what i went through doesn't matter and isn't that bad because i have easthollow and family. you have no idea." cyron snaps at his retreating form. "you have no idea..." and likewise, cyron has no idea what the extent of suffering the ebony man went through, in all fairness. but he does know what it's like to lose everything and to still feel like it's lost to him even though, in some sense, he has it back.

cyron watches the stranger tuck tail and run and he lets out a low snarl at the man's retreating form. get lost and don't come back the sterling saefyn's body language communicates though the man is already out of sight. he waits, salmon pink tongue swiping across his jowls, wincing as he draws it across his wound just to be sure the foolish man does not double back before he sets off in search of valette.