Moonspear seal team sixty-nine sexecuting the hit

It was Moonspear. That was an immense relief to Dragomir, whose figure veritably sagged with exhaustion. Outwardly they couldn't see the pain he was in, having used his legs more over the past few days than he had in almost two months, but his hindquarters briefly trembled as spasms crawled up his stiff thighs. With a soft whine, the boy slowly sat, shooting a remorseful look first to Hydra and then to Vercingetorix.

He didn't want to be rude, but he just couldn't stand that long. It was actually fortunate that he was sitting for what came next. Verx introduced them and stated their purpose and Hydra supplied the answer they were looking for. Dragomir's stomach swooped with concern and fear when she revealed that his mother was struck by lightning—was she alive? Was she okay?!—but then swooped back up and punched him straight in the chest with the force of the same lightning strike that temporarily felled Aurëwen.

She what?

WHAT?!?!

Dragomir's fragile composure broke and a rapid wave of anger and anguish burned through him. His face twisted into a tortured snarl that he couldn't silence. Later, maybe he would feel ashamed and humiliated for this outburst in front of Hydra and Arcturus, who lurked above, unseen by the boy. But right now? Right now the pain of being abandoned, just as he had come to fear, was too powerful for him to swallow down. It tore straight through him for all to see.

His eyes burned with tears as he whirled past Vercingetorix and left. Not far. He was still within view of the Moonspear wolves and his father when he allowed himself to collapse to the ground and curl into fetal position, tears streaming from his eyes and muzzle wrinkled in a silent scream. As though he believed that curling into a ball could somehow cage the seething, sickening feeling of betrayal that overwhelmed every other feeling in his body.

Skippable now unless addressed, tag if needed!