Arrow Lake Carry all your thoughts across an open field

<3

While Stag's author certainly felt a pained string of empathy for Takiyok, Stag did not. He was hurting -- and while grief was usually easily shared across a community, he was young and so, was selfish. This was his loss, and no one else understood. No, not even the woman who bore him into this world in union with his father.

He refused to meet Takiyok's gaze, out of both stubborness and the understanding if he dared look upon his mother, he would cry. His composure was pulled together by a thread, and no more -- he lacked the strength to look in his mother's eyes and withstand the sorrow he would see within them.

What could she do? Unless she could bring the dead back to the realm of living, there was nothing. Stag could not articulate this, for he also felt if he spoke, his voice would betray the crack of a sob that threatened to push through his throat. He had to be strong -- Stigmata would have likely skinned him alive to see his whelp of a son sobbing like some weak-spined slug. He had to carry on in his father's proud name, and not defile the strength it gave by crying.

Instead of a verbal answer, Stag shrugged -- all the while his gaze fixed infuriatingly elsewhere.