Stone Circle I'm so used to letting go

He had heard through the grapevine of the tragedy that afflicted this place. The loss, the grief, and then the gathering of those that needed to mourn. Oiseaux was oblivious to most of it and felt lost throughout the event; he came when called, slinking to those that had gathered and unable to meet their eye.

Oiseaux was not sad because he did not know those that were lost. He looked from person to person with fleeting glances, unable to hold his gaze upon anyone for long except for Valette as he caught some of her words. Then Oryx, because she was the most familiar so far.

The boy had immense empathy for these people because it was right to feel sad for what they had lost and what they experienced, but he could not quite connect to the mournful energy they exuded. He had never lost in the manner they had lost - yes, he was without family, and yes his father had deemed him unworthy, going so far as to banish him. But they were alive. He could go back one day when he was worthy.

Such thoughts filled his mind and rooted him firmly to the dirt beside Oryx. He brushed against her softly - more an accident than anything - and found comfort in that feeling.