Stone Circle lift with your knees atlas

His son's voice was thick with untold emotion, and Mawk's expression mirrored some of the emotions that filtered through Cryon - guilt at failing to defend his boy from the dangers of the world, guilt at greeting his return with the lack of a mother, and guilt the absence of his sister. He'd not done a good job, had he? Joy, too; an overwhelming sense of relief that flooded through his system when he had confirmed that it was the young Saefyn at the borders, not some lookalike rogue. He thought of how broken their family was, ripped apart by the woes of life, and for a fleeting second he felt a burning anger in his chest...

why his family, of all of them?

But it passed, and it had not shown across his weary features. Cyron did not seem to reject his touch, but he did not appear to favour it either, so Mawk made the gesture swift, light. He longed to embrace his son in warmth, to drape his neck over the silvery youth's shoulders, but he'd never wish to make the other wolfdog any more uncomfortable than he might already be.

He just wanted to be a good dad.

The enquiry was simple -- general, and the scout hesitated at an answer. He wished he could answer in the same simplicity that the question was proposed, but alas, he cannot tell Cyron of everything that has occured without it turning into a novel, and it's one he struggles to tell. "...Better now that you're here." He concludes, seeing it as the only way to answer without his voice cracking, or his legs trembling. "I hope..." He pauses, but pushes himself to continue -- if only for the benefit of his son. "I hope you know I'm not mad that you left. I understand. Maybe not... the full extent of it, but i'm glad you're here."