Stone Circle Churchyard

Maybe Arlette is right - maybe his frustration is built on assumptions - and yet, he can't seem to step past the burning sensation that there is something wrong with his sadness. Nothing has shaken him so deeply as this - but why? He smiles softly at her reassurance, even as a frown threatens his brow. He feels lost and distant, despite being found and walking right here, and he wonders - how long before he finds he has wandered too far for even his sister to reach?

"I just don't want her to worry," he says, and as far as he understands, it's really that simple. He glances at his sister to gauge her reaction. "She has enough on her paws already, without my problems to trouble her." And what kind of problems were they, except ones he should have moved past already, and has only made for himself?

Merrit doesn't tell Arlette that he feels no stirring to visit their allies in the east. He knows the normal Merrit should be excited, but he feels only that same ache of hollowness, and a new wave of tiredness in his bones. Going to Lost Creek Hollow will not make him feel better, and the dull, yet persistent ache of pain behind his eyes seems to magnify at the thought of seeing anyone other than his own family right now. Even they suddenly feel like too much.

But instead of telling her this, he only says, "Maybe. Let me think about it," and he turns from her, toward the heart of Easthollow. He is done talking; he wants to be alone, but Arlette hasn't done anything wrong, and he doesn't want to make her feel bad. "I was planning to sleep a little once my patrol was done," he explains, "I didn't get much sleep last night. I'll see if I can talk with mother later - " but he says this more to satiate his sister's concern.