Boartusk Heights the broken one

Charles felt a pit in his stomach when Nyra called out his lie. He just wanted to seem cool and confident. He licked his lips submissively and looked away when she called out his lie, though there was also something in his gut — excitement? — because she noticed him, at least. That was what Charles wanted in his life: to do good things and be noticed, or to do bad things and be noticed. A dull life without attention wasn't any good. And, well, it just so happened he wasn't very good at doing good things, he'd found, so doing bad things was just a lot easier.

It made him want to lie again. See if he could get away, see if he could get punished, his face shoved into the dirt where it belonged. What is wrong with you, Charles? he berated himself as he found himself thinking those things, but before he could think of another thing to lie about, Charles found his gaze snapping back to Nyra in awe as she mentioned killing a bear.

Snap, tear, jerk, and they were both gone.

And she'd killed that?!

Don't lie to me, Charles said, his mood suddenly plummeting further. He must seem quite manic to her — from shy to insecure to a liar to brazen — but the thought of any wolf killing that was laughable to Charles. He just couldn't believe it true. Bears outright slaughtered wolves; that was the only thing he'd seen them do, at least.