Stone Circle it wasn't your weight to hold

burr was dead, his mother'd been a ...mess and cyron had receded away from his parents for a bit. he had to process his brother's death on his own and without the burden of his mother's mental instability as she brought home a baby fox and started calling it burr. whether she'd came out of that delusion or not cyron isn't immediately aware of. mawk had went off to play gallant hero and cyron thought he heard whispers of his sister returning home but he is content to isolate himself. he patrols borders and he works on improving his hunting skills and feels a small victory each time he is successful. he's learning that basic skill a little too late but it comes naturally enough to him and soon it will become second nature.

cyron putting himself first probably looks a certain way to others and to his family but he offers no apologizes for it. he's heading to a food cache when he becomes aware of the approach of soft footfalls. his ears cup forth atop his skull as his dull chestnut gaze lifts and he takes in the figure. she is both foreign and familiar to him. last they'd seen one another: they'd been young children. still, she looks the same. just older. cyron's steps cease as he appraises her from the distance that hangs in the air between them, his curled tail twitching once with his uncertainty.