Arrow Lake when thaw is not below us

He was careening down one path and ready to duck around the split in the worn road, maybe do some kind of Matrix-style leap at the exposed stonework jutting from between some uprooted trees, when a voice called to him. It was so much like his mother's that he felt his magma hot emotions cool for a split second; it wasn't enough to prevent his momentum from carrying him towards the stone escarpment though, and Mesa roughly twisted and collided shoulder-first with a chunk of it. His head ducked in time to narrowly avoid some exposed roots twisting overhead, and as the blur of his motion settled, he saw Tahani properly. Not mother, he thought, and felt an instantaneous white-hot rage rekindling.

MESA! He hollered at her vehemently, and ignored his (probably bruised at this point) shoulder as he stalked back up the incline towards where she was watching him. She questioned him, and again in the north tongue - the language of his mother, which he knew - and again he shouted, STOP IT! I AM MESA! He was Mesa, his father's son! Stigmata's! How dare she try to make him forget! How dare she use his other name! The boy was bristling and inconsolable as his emotions ran the gamut, settling easily on the rage that festered, rippling through his body as his fur serrated and spiked.

Deep down Mesa knew he was being childish; he loved his mother, loved both his names - but he wasn't in control of himself, he wasn't sure how to deal with anything, and so all that came from him was an eruption of cruelty and anger.