Hushed Willows oh, clean eyes

cortez hadn't lost a mate or a friend. he didn't know lily and ariel and aliac all that well. but he was—the curse of his family—an empath, and grief chipped away at his resolve, threatening to drag him down with each step. elysium was heavy-hearted, and he with it. everyone was struggling.

including, it seemed, little golden reif, who was losing himself in playing in the dirt, but with a vigor cortez knew all too well was a kind of sorrowful escapism. he padded over, a small chuff leaving his maw as he approached his nephew. he lay down on his belly a few paces nearby, watching silently for a moment as the boy drew his designs. he'd not seen anything quite like it—he was, besides worried, very intrigued.

hey, reif, cortez murmured, smiling gently. what're you doing?