Stone Circle sticks

Oops, I knew that. Thanks for pointing it out, I've edited!

There was so much warmth in her; a thing that Charles admired. Perhaps because he had so little experience with it himself. His mother had been very up and down. At times adoring and doting, especially when they were younger, and at times overly harsh in her punishments. Now she was just void, he felt, though he didn't know why. To Charles, the absence of his aunt was in many ways a relief, for she'd never liked them and it had always been clear, even when she had watched them and played with them at times. Leta was very different from himself and his two brothers — and Charles admired her for it, unwilling to let resentment for her cheer rear its ugly head.

Her excitement was seemingly boundless at the sentiment of playing with sticks. Please don't ask, please don't ask, please don't— But she asked anyway. Charles' ears instantly drooped back against his skull as he looked at Riley, afraid of what was to come.

His brother's actions were no surprise to Charles. He watched with a frown as Riley blocked him and Leta from seeing each other, and the stick was taken. Just stay down and be quiet, Charles told himself, And he'll focus on her and you'll be safe. But there was some undeniable pull that made him want to put himself out there. Something strange and foreign. Don't do it, don't do it, don't— Aw, come on Ri, let's just play with Leta! Immediately Charles realised that he had made a mistake, and he flinched in place, frozen as he waited breathlessly for his brother's response to his audacity.