Broken Antler Fen and the cat's in the cradle and the silver spoon

He snorted when his father said his name like he wasn't sure he believed his eyes. "It me," he joked, tail wagging rapidly but slowing and stopping altogether when Reyes drew away and questioned him. The tip drooped almost comically as his head scrunched sheepishly toward his shoulders.

"N...no," he was forced to admit, though he hastily added, "I didn't come here on purpose." Realizing how dumb that sounded even as the words left his mouth, Caracal tried to explain, "I just... I smelled you and I wanted to come see you..."

Although he was still far too young to comprehend the situation entirely, Caracal knew he was at the root of the chasm between his parents. It had to do with that day when Reyes had grabbed him by the neck and pinned him to the dirt. He could faintly recall how afraid he'd felt, unable to squirm from his dad's grasp. But it had only lasted a second and Reyes had let him go. He had been shocked, sure, but not actually hurt.

Maybe it was strange that he didn't hold it against his dad. But he just didn't. "Am I in trouble?" Caracal murmured, afraid he already knew the answer. "I can go," he added, pouting a little as he tucked tail and turned.