Redhawk Caldera break me shake me

Charles stared hungrily at the piece of meat he had dislodged from the cache, but he knew that there was no way he would be allowed it, now. He looked at Bronco's mom when she brushed past him, his body tense and flinched, and as she sharply reminded him that it was not just any cache, it was actually her cache that he had been raiding from.

Oh, if only Leta was here. She always bailed him out of these situations. But thinking about that alone was painful enough. Charles willed his body to come into motion so that he could run, run, run! Nobody here cared about him anyway. What was he still doing here? Who was he sticking around for? For Bronco to pick him up? For sarcastic nosy girl to bail him out, this time?

When she told him to lie again and dove at him with snapping jaws he curled up into a ball on the ground while he yelped, high-pitched and loud, in anticipation of the pain that would follow. It reminded him of the situation with Osiris, except that he knew only too well that this would be much worse.

This was a mom. A mom who reminded him of his mom. She'd given him the shivers from the beginning. Would that mean that she would hurt him? Would that mean that she would strip the skin from his nose, tell him he was ugly and worthless and a trash piece of waste of space?

Would that mean that she would hold him close and whisper in his how sorry she was for lashing out and kiss his wounds until they were raw and hurt but his heart finally felt soft and warm again as he lay cradled against her chest and felt loved, even but for a fleeting moment?