Arrow Lake when thaw is not below us

There was quiet everywhere except inside of him, where there was a brewing storm. He felt more and more unstable the longer he sat there pining for change; but he couldn't do anything else, and fell to a certain disquiet which could've been interpreted as aggressive, or at the very least dangerous. He looked upon everything as if it were rotten, to touch the ground was to invite a vile stain upon himself, or to breathe the air of the mountain he was intoxicating himself with the sickness of an inevitable and early death. But he sat there, brooding, seething, until Tahani spoke with her disjointed words.

Whether he was listening or not, it was hard to tell. The glare in Mesa's eyes was reserved for the nearest ledge bordering the hillside. He pulled his tail tight around his haunches, lost his balance a bit, and ended up leaning against his aunt, bumping her softly. Whether the contact comforted him or not, he was like a stone—a vengeful stalactite.

He did hear what she was saying, though. Bits and pieces patched together, forming some kind of understanding that eased a little of his suffering. Mesa knew his mother was just as much a warrior as his dead father; more-so now, since she was alive and he was not. He let out a sigh from his nose and felt himself delfate againt Tahani, minutely, and then grimly replied, I won't let anything happen to them ever again.