Ankyra Sound a gunslinger knows pride - that invisible bone that keeps the neck stiff

Grezig nodded at Illidan’s question, though her brows furrowed at his stiffness. “Yes. At least, I hope he will. I told him he would be allowed to. I think it’s important for my children to have both parents around—

Grezig stopped with her mouth open and looked at Illidan, and then shook her head. “I’m sorry, Illidan,” she said, her voice gruff with some unidentifiable emotion. “I didn’t think… We don’t have to talk about… fathers.” She cleared her throat and looked around, hoping he would change the subject himself or show a willingness to continue the conversation.

His next words, his response to whether he was romantically interested in someone, knocked the wind out of her. ’No… I… I don’t think I’m capable.’

She felt herself deflating like a balloon. Imploding. Somehow Illidan was never good enough for himself. This had been a problem from the beginning. “You’re capable,” she said, her voice quiet but strong. “You don’t think you are, but you are. You just need to… get a grip on who you are first. Who you could be.” She shook her head, unsure of what else to say, since nothing she ever said to him seemed to make a difference. “Why don’t you think you’re capable?” Maybe if he’d talk about it, she could help him through it. Maybe.