Sun Mote Copse Caraway Tea

He felt disappointed, but also a bit relieved that Wraen didn't have stories for him. While he wanted to know more about what his father's life had been like, and while he wanted to hear accolades from all the wolves he'd known, he was also aware now that he was still grieving- and that hearing those things likely would have made him hurt again. Grief comes in waves. Someone had told him that- and he couldn't remember who had said it- but he realized now that they were right. He took a breath, held it for a moment, and breathed it out, willing for his exhale to take with it the heavy, burning feeling that had been kindled within his chest. For a few moments, focusing simply on his breathing seemed to work, as he listened to Wraen, though the burning feeling returned when Finley was mentioned. He missed his aunt...How she used to egg him on, encourage his boisterous attitude, but could always manage to keep him in check, too. And now she was gone- and with her, all the stories that he should have asked to hear about what his Dad had been like, when they'd been kids. He knew some of them- because Finley had seemed to enjoy, to some extent, telling the wide-eyed youth about her daring adventures...But it was never enough. 

He'd have to ask Towhee. He wasn't sure he really wanted to go and ask Phox about Colt, given that that would mean he'd essentially be asking his stepfather about his wife's ex-mate...And something about that just seemed like it could potentially get pretty damn awkward quick. His mother couldn't even handle the mention of Colt's name without getting tears in her eyes- so he decided he might approach Towhee, but only when the time was right. This wasn't just something he felt comfortable bringing up out of the blue. 

In the few moments of silence that followed, his mind wandered...Without being given new stories to hear, or even the re-telling of a story he already knew, he felt himself once again wondering about Kiwi...It was the first real conversation he'd been able to have with anyone about her, and he felt that Wraen was possibly the only wolf he could really talk to about this. He assumed Towhee would feel the same way about Kiwi that Niamh did, and he was already aware that his mother wanted Kiwi dead. He wasn't sure that Phox would have been terribly close to her, and apart from those three...Who else was left, who had known Kiwi? There was Eljay, of course...But he was too afraid to ask Eljay questions about personal or upsetting things. Neither of them would make it through that conversation. 

A thought- a dark, shadowy thing- made its way into his mind and he felt himself clam up. He felt lightly offended that such a thing should even enter his mind- but it was something deeply disturbing and troubling, and there was no better wolf to ask than Wraen. So, after taking a moment to steady himself on the brink of this new uncertainty that opened up before him like a bottomless gorge, he stared hard at the ground, and spoke. 

"If...If I ever meet her...What do I do?" He asked. "I don't think Mom would forgive me, if I just...Let her go, but..." He said, and whatever control he'd managed to maintain this long finally started to slip away from him. "I can't hurt anyone, Wraen. I just can't,"  he confessed, which made his cheeks flush with heat, and his heart sink with shame. He was the son of the Sergeant-at-Arms, and one of the pack's guardians. He felt that there were certain expectations for him- and that he'd just confessed how truly inadequate he was, something he'd been keeping as a secret as long as he could remember. The truth bubbled out of him, disjunct and truncated.

"I made Nellie yelp once, and...I felt so bad. All I did was nip her...And I've never really been able to spar with her since and I like sparring with Towhee but...If I do, actually, accidentally hurt her, I just...I can't keep sparring, it just makes me feel sick and I have to stop...And then there was this...Guy. And he...I caught him, and he was attacking Sugar Glider...So I knocked him offa her, and I fought him, and I...I got him by the throat. I could've hurt him- I could've killed him, I could've killed him...I could've killed him...Mom...Would've killed him. And I felt like I was supposed to be like her...But I'm not. And I couldn't, so...I let him go." He said. "I don't..." He started, but then he trailed off, and decided to reiterate that thought. 

"I know I'm good at fighting, and defending, and guarding...But if it means I have to kill someone...I can't do it."