King Elk Forest This poem is mournful & sentimental & filled with complaints:

He kept his distance from the pack though remained near to Ramsay. He barely ate and did little else besides hide himself away, lying despondently in the cold embrace of some thick tree roots. He was plagued with headaches, and he could not sleep. There were sticks, stones, feathers, cones and leaves and all other manner of forest debris sorted around him; neatly piled together and arranged methodically. He looked upon them blankly.

—

Euron can scarcely recall the steps he took from where he lied to where Delight had summoned them to the fallen elk. He immediately searched for Ramsay from the fringe of the gathering where he stood in shadows, his distant gaze finding his brother just as a mixed-color female made a lunge for him, and as Delight was stepping forward to salvage the situation. Euron reacted fiercely, and without thought.

He was upon Queenie's heels in a flash, a crocodile rising out of the mire and snapping for an ankle that likely had no idea he was even near. There was no sound nor expression to accompany his aggression, just a mechanical and baleful need to defend what was left of his world. But he had no intention to pursue her; his fangs would stay with Ramsay. If she stepped away from his brother, she would be stepping away from his teeth too.

He registered only one thing that Delight said in the wake of it.

It's time to go.