Stone Circle me thinkies

His siblings and mother gathered around him, ushering him with words that barely did little to break his fit of rage. All he heard was muffles of voices, clumping together and becoming one, rolling past his ears and tumbling into the static noise only to be swallowed up around him. He couldn't hear anything but the loud, ringing noise in his head and his own sobs as he stared down at the earth, at his paws that were now aching and hurting from attacking the tree.

The only thing that broke the sea of emotional constipation was a gentle lick to his face, one that easily scooped up his tears— and clay followed it, letting his head be tilted up to stare at the muddled figure of his mother through salt.

"Huh?" he sounded, a bit harsher than what he wanted as he finally gazed around him. Around them. They were staring at him. Staring through him.

All at once those feelings that melted away came rushing back, locking him in a freezing container. They saw him cry, saw him upset, saw him weak. He was exactly what they thought of him. Weak. Emotional. Angry. Useless.

It scared him.
It made him angry.

Clay stared at them as the tears started falling  at full force. "Im fine," he bubbled through bated breath, lying to them in hopes of somehow convincing not only them but himself. "Go away."