Dawnlark Plains no, they won't be home tonight

Her words picked at him like the birds had picked at Grayday, and his first, fleeting instinct was to bare his teeth, treat her in kind. It faded quickly, replaced by a ripple of fear and then the crippling exhaustion that had came and went over the past few days, interspersed with dreams. His face morphed through these emotions alarmingly quickly, finally smoothing out to bland, impassive.

"I always wonder whether I should have waited a little longer," he said, staring at his paws. He didn't see the ground, the long plains grass, but the cool stone of a mountain den. "Poppy died first. She was youngest. Then Dove, Liam. Jack held on for as long as possible--he was strong, like Grayday--but then he was gone, too. We buried them, and moved on."

Bitter, he struck at the ground, twice, three times, before ceasing, panting slightly. "I just think--what if I had waited? What if I buried my children alive? I think that maybe if I had waited just one more day, I would have my babies back. They would have woken up."

Shale swung his head up to look at Pema, feeling as if someone was strangling him for how tight his throat was. "He's stone, cold dead--I know that! I fucking know that," he repeated, trailing off. He cast his gaze toward Grayday, breath coming up in a heaving sob. "But maybe I just wait a little longer. . .if this all turns out to be a dream. . .goddamn it, I can't leave him. I can't."

His shoulders shook as he cried, legs trembling with the effort to stay upright.