Whitefish River drachenfeuer

The older he got, the more Dragomir might start to understand that it wasn't, in fact, Aurë's fault. Sometimes these things just happened, and adults could be as easily tricked as children by a crafty wolf like Sanguinus. He was still just young enough to believe that adults knew everything, and still too naive to know not to point fingers. Luckily, Mahler didn't make him feel worse by disagreeing with him—something Dragomir privately thought Vercingetorix would have done if he was here instead. His father was pretty good at disagreeing and making him feel shitty, best intentions though he might have.

Instead, Mahler asked if Verx knew.

Dragomir snagged his lower lip between his teeth and huffed quick breaths through his nose. He didn't know why it was easier to tell Mahler these things than it was to tell his parents. The reality of his unhealthy relationships, and equally unhealthy tendency to seek the comfort and care he needed elsewhere, was beyond his comprehension. But he was able to winch open his mouth and say, n-no. I told him who, I ... couldn't tell him what happened. Then, feeling perplexed and guilty for being unable to confide these things in his parents, the frantic boy mumbled, I'm sorry, and sought to bury his nose into his paws.