Stone Circle Beginning of hope

she is ashamed and he almost regrets asking — it is common knowledge that you shouldn't ask questions whose answers you aren't prepared to hear, after all — but he feels he has a right to know. at the beginning of her response, cyron understands. he can't blame them for taking a step back, for wanting to regroup and get help, get back-up. that part made sense. what didn't make sense was what followed: that she gave up, that she abandoned the family all together. he feels an obligation to assure her that she hadn't failed him but as she is being candid with him he only feels it's right to be candid in return. thus, he does not utter any false reassurances. she had failed him. by some stroke of luck or his own determination he survived and he freed himself. their failure gave him the strength he needed to take matters into his own hands; to decide that he wasn't going to be the victim anymore. he'd been dying. his body slowly starving to death as it turned against itself. he'd had nothing to lose by attempting his escape because whether he was successful or not death had been the only certain outcome either way.

his mother begins to cry and cyron looks away, awkwardly. he isn't sure what to do with her tears and believes that if she was ever going to forgive herself that she needed to hear the truth. not of what happened to him — no, that alone was his own demon to battle — but she had to learn to forgive herself. he doesn't hold it against her but he knows she'll never move on from it if she keeps berating herself for her failings. they all made mistakes. there was no such thing as a perfect mother ...or a perfect son. his ears taper back as she tells him that she won't yearn for who he once was, which was good. she needed to forgive herself and accept that cyron will never be the same. the first steps were always the hardest. "that boy died in wolfskull cave." he confirms candidly. what had emerged is still ...well being discovered. cyron isn't yet sure what kind of man he'll be. he can only hope that it's not like the blackfeather wolves. they've left their mark upon him, they raised him ...and that was bound to have it's consequences. he swallows thickly and hastily tucks that worry away. he may wish to be candid with his mother but, perhaps, not that candid. not today.

"i can protect myself, mom." he tells her softly. he doesn't need his mother to fight his battles for him anymore. he isn't trying to shut her out and he doesn't mean for that to sound as cruel as it might come across but it's the truth.