Blackfoot Forest 'Cause this time, there's no sound to hide behind

How could she answer his question so vaguely? Shouldn't she want him to help? But then he remembered who he was talking to. Zephyr. She never confided in him or asked for his help; she never had, despite all his trying to get past whatever wall she had placed between herself and the rest of the world—aside from the chosen few who passed some kind of unknown test he never seemed to be able to pass. He often wondered where he went wrong with Zephyr, but he knew it was just an endless spiral with endless unanswered and impossible questions. His heart ached so badly and burned so intensely that he thought it might sear a hole through his flesh and fall to the ground between them. 

Her words pulled him from his depressing thoughts. Kavik stared at—him for a few moments, unable to process exactly what Zephyr had said. It was confusing at the very least. Zephyr had been born their daughter but felt as though he were their son. Who was Kavik to tell him how to feel, though? And honestly, all he really cared about was that he was alive and well, no matter how much Zephyr pushed him away. Alright, he finally said. I'm sorry, Zephyr. You're none of those things, and I never meant to make you feel that way. In fact, just the knowing that he had inadvertently hurt Zephyr, probably often, was something that would torture him for the rest of his life.