Stone Circle Your brother has returned

They walked, their pace slow and drawling. Clay felt bad his mother had to do such a thing—hinder herself to his speed as if he was once again a whelp tumbling on heavy paws. They shared small bits and pieces of conversation, and when his mother echoed his words he turned to look at her with furrowed brows. An expression that was similar to that his father often made.

"I appreciate the sentiment but I am one of them." He said sharply. His pointed ears were now turned back, cocked at an angle that made them seem as if they were horns; a mannerism he picked up from the warlord and never quite shook. "I was trained. I killed, I hunted, I ate the flesh of others." he whispered.

He fell silent after that, listening to her with a firm line at his mouth and an eerie gaze from his slanted eyes. He was surprised that so much had happened after he left. As a child he always assumed Easthollow would stay the same: his kin wouldn't leave. His father would be with his mother. Everyone would still be around. Oh how he was wrong.

He watched as his mother brought him various carrion, and he stared at it with a blank expression. He was thankful for the meal.

But somehow, after staring at the meat he no longer felt hungry. In fact—he felt like he might vomit.