Greatwater Lake every time i see you, it lets me know just how strong

her response slights him in a way that only she has ever been able to. he is not offended, per se, but he does lower his crown and snort in her direction.  one of his paws slides across the ice in front of him, leaving a small arc.  being on your own will do that to you, he replies.

he wants to resent her for leaving.  not for leaving home — dispersal was natural, after all — but for leaving him.  after all they'd been through.  didn't he deserve to have some closure?  didn't he deserve to know that one day he'd just wake up and she'd be gone like nothing had ever happened?  he'd always worried that he was overstating his importance in her life, and it wounded him to the core to think that perhaps

for once

he was right.  yet still, he cannot resent her.  the wind changes direction.  you have made a home here?  his tone is level all but at the end, not accusatory or even curious until the last syllables leave him.  is it good to you?