Sawtooth Spire But time makes you bolder

Admittedly, she had kept to herself a lot. Stag was really the only wolf whose company didn't cause her some kind of discomfort. So she had missed the assumed commotion surrounding whatever had happened to the Eisen's son. Her heart sank at his words, though. Their history was complicated and painful, and she still hadn't really forgiven him for hurting her, but she would have never wished for him to lose a child, not even at her angriest. 

Many questions erupted in her mind, most pressing being what had actually happened. Gone could mean different things, the worst being that something had happened to him and he was no longer alive. But she couldn't find the words to ask, mostly because she didn't want to watch him try to tell her more about something so painful. 

As for his blaming himself, she shook her head. His selfishness was a sore subject for her, but she in no way believed he was being made to pay for it by losing his son. She drew in a long breath and looked away; the feeling of failure was one she was all too familiar with. Three of her children were gone, and she too felt like it spoke to how bad of a mother she was. And then she had left Stag for her own selfish reasons, which was a guilt that kept her awake at night. How could she console Mahler when she knew the guilt never went away? 

I'm sorry; no parent should ever have to know that pain, she finally said, gently touching her nose to his shoulder. Can I help in some way? she asked. She owed him many debts, but she also knew how he was feeling and wanted to try and help if it was possible.