Redhawk Caldera start over

The thing was, Charles wasn't alright. He'd never experienced anything like this before. All of his troubles — the weird gay dreams about Osiris, his low rank in the pack, his fear of getting ditched by Leta, the scuffle with his stupid brother — they all seemed pretty small and insignificant now. It was as if he was all the way up in the sky, seeing the grand scheme of things were those things were so much smaller than he thought. It was unimaginable how he had ever even considered those things worries at all. Compared to what he had seen, it was nothing. Everything was nothing. And he was nothing, too; nothing but a puny speck in a cruel world.

The thing was, Charles wasn't very good at feelings. He hadn't ever shared his innermost feelings to anyone, and he wasn't so sure he could do so now. There were a few options. Pretend everything was cool and tell the news as if it was just a small bump in the road, even though this was mind-shatteringly destructive for Charles. Try to tell Bronco what he'd seen but risk losing himself completely in whatever flood wave of feelings might follow. Or...

I... Charles swallowed thickly as his breathing steadied somewhat. Bronco had heard about Desdemona and Toad, yes, but what about Osiris and Leta? The bear, it... He was really trying, but it was hard to get it out of his throat. How could he ever say out loud what had happened? How could he ever say that Osiris and Leta had been brutally murdered? If he said that, it meant that... It meant admitting to himself that it had really happened.