Stone Circle will the darkness fall upon me when the air is growing thin?

Merrit let the stranger clean the blood from his toes. Her gentle rasps felt soothing against his wound, but when she spoke, her voice cut like thistles and he jerked his paw away. He'd only kicked the rocks because they had cut him, and he defended himself with a sharp, "I know." The silence made him think she was done, but when she spoke again, he wasn't ready. A fresh wave of heat stung his throat, and he kept his face forcefully turned away.

How could she possibly understand what he was going through? He let her talk, but the fire built until it was too much, and he found himself swinging to face her with a hard and bitter stare. "What do we have in common? Was your dad ever sick? Did you visit him every day so he wouldn't forget you? Did you decorate his den with leaves and river stones so he'd have some way to remember you, and to remember that you didn't forget him?" he peeled his lips in an ugly curl as he thrust his face forward, "Did your dad ever leave you?"

Silence buzzed from his throat, and Merrit stiffened and jerked away, a wild look of anger and fear in his face. He had said too much. "Sorry," he murmured, but there was no way he could take anything back. He had left every piece of his heart scattered in the space between them.