Silvertip Mountain sun in the bloodied hand

Take root among us finally. Ashlar did not understand. He had tried, in earnest, to do this since the first moment he joined. But time and time again he felt he was tested and each time he failed to do what it was they wished of him. It was not his decision if he belonged here and was accepted as he was.

I want t..to. He replied, attention still drawn. Even the skull looked sad, as if it also mourned. But I.... um. Ashlar swallowed. All of his sureness had disappated with the surprises of this conversation and he was thrown by the bones, by Merrick's seeming understanding, and how little he still understood himself. I don't know how.

He did not feel they needed him or wanted him here. They were all so strong and so determined to live in this way that was wrong. He could hold to his own convictions, but if those had no place here, then did he? What would he contribute if they would not accept what he gave? To his slight embarassment, Ashlar felt his eyes well up. He couldn't explain why it mattered so much to have them need him, but with everything he'd seen, he wondered if perhaps his place was elsewhere.