Duck Lake Girl use me while you can, I’m all yours

I didn't want you to raise me, the boy returned. Alexander clenched his teeth, biting back his own remark; deep down, he knew anything he said either wouldn’t matter or would be birthed from misdirected anger. He kept quiet and, perhaps, let Indra down again by doing so; she told him once that Marten was his only surviving child, that he was the reason to fix things in his life. But now that he was there, meeting with his son for the first time in months, he couldn’t find the words he knew he should say. Shrouded by the recent onslaught of grief, they were hidden from him in some corner of his mind.

Not that it mattered much either way, the topic of conversation shifted.

“Some boy challenged me,” he answered. “It’s not that bad.” Xan remained glued to the ground when the yearling motioned him over, hesitant; for some time now, the albino was cautious of those proclaiming to be healers, skeptical of the plants they all seemed so eager to utilise. But… perhaps it was time to get over that—or, at the very least, try. Drawing in a breath, he approached the other male and turned his head, offering a full visual of the puncture wounds on his neck. “Usually these things just heal on their own,” he admitted. “Not my first fight or wounds.” At this point, he couldn’t recall when those firsts were or who they were with.