Nova Peak Skeptic

Taikon listened. She was right, in a way. He didn't know what it was like to have a child and worry so much about their decisions and life choices. What Taikon knew about Stag was based entirely on what he had learned from Takiyok, coupled with the reaction of the son to him asking a question. He was grown, but clearly still had a childish view of the world around him. The concern that his mother showed seemed fair, for young men are stupid and will follow women into fire. He didn't answer her apart from a slow nod of his head. What Taikon expected her to do, the right thing, was watch her son throw himself into the fire and do nothing apart from nurse the inevitable burns. But thinking about it, he started to understand why this was impossible.
She continued on, speaking of peace. At this, he had to take a deep breath in and let out a long, heavy sigh. Life seemed to be an asshole to the both of them. Taikon understand his own mess, since he knew that it was his own corruption that had led him to his exile. For her, it seemed she had merely been dealt terrible cards over and over. The both of them appeared to be playing a game where everyone else knew the rules and they did not.
Takiyok hardened, looking at him. She declared her choice. He licked his lips anxiously, sitting down. His head was low. His back hurt from carrying tension for days. He was quiet. Finally, he told her. If you weren't here, I would leave, he said plainly, looking at her. This is a pile of bullshit. I'll stay to make sure you — and Stag — are okay. Not for Wylla or her pussy-whipped husband, he said, angry, but not at her.