Whitefish River Vote correctly or never see your loved ones again

There wasn't a reason was the last thing that Dragomir was expecting to hear, but he should have known. Several things clicked into place in his head and the fiery light went out of his eyes, replaced by extinguished coals of disappointment. Everything suddenly made a lot more sense.

They didn't even want you, said Dragomir's mind, slicing into his already fragile heart and leaving his feelings to bleed out into his eyes. He always wore his heart on his sleeve, try as he might to hide it. You were a mistake, they wouldn't have had you if they could go back in time. That was why Vercingetorix had left them, pretending he was seeking a better life for them, but in reality probably trying to get away, or so he thought. That was why his mother's eyes were always heavy with sorrow. That was why she wandered, perhaps seeking the freedom that he and his sister had snatched from her. Of course. He should have known.

For the time being, Vercingetorix's assurances that he loved them more than anything fell on deaf ears. The little child in Dragomir's heart that cried for his mother clung to the notion that his parents loved him truly as they said, but the heavier, darker emotions that were smothering that child blocked it from reaching him. You love us because you have to, he thought, but he couldn't say it. All the fight was gone from him now. The most he could muster was an awkward shifting of his posture so that he was faced away from Vercingetorix with his ears pinned back, and all he could offer after that was a quiet, okay.

He would wait for his mother to return, as she said she would, believing despondently now that he was just a ball and chain tied to her paws and detaching himself from his emotions as best he could, and hoped in the meantime these new feelings of inadequacy would not eat him alive.