Big Salmon Lake wake up, sleepyhead, it's happening without you

There is no curb to his tongue as he lashes out his anger—his hurt. In the end, he inflicts hurt in a way he isn’t used to. Looking at Ghost is a mistake, to see tears form and gush down his cheeks as the dam breaks makes him want to crumble, too. He doesn’t get how so many are able to cry openly—as if it is an alright thing to do.
Apologies are tossed his way, and he finds no fight left in him anymore. He’s said his piece and made it dangerously clear how disapproving he is— No one’s named the feeling—jealousy—before in this sort of situation. He simmers. A deep breath is exhaled through his nose, and he remains silent.