Hideaway Strath Tore my shirt to stop you bleedin'

A frown formed on her face as he told her of his mother—another look inside him that filled in more blanks. I'm sorry, she told him somberly. How was she— she started, swallowing. —after the fight. Did she live? Did she continue on with only three legs? Or did she not make it past that day? She didn't know much about his parents, and she was curious about them. Much of his behavior could likely be contributed to his upbringing. 

His admittance made her want to offer one of her own, although she hesitated a moment; it was difficult to say the words after she spent so much time trying to push it all deep down inside where she wouldn't have to deal with it. She swallowed again and nodded. I usually dream about the same thing, Simmik offered softly. The setting is usually different, but he is always there. She shook her head as her eyes tightly shut.