my heart is caged

Thistle studied her son as he refused to look at her. Her heart felt somewhere down in her guts. He knew didn't he, he knew about Crete and he hated her for it. That had to be it right, it was the only thing that made sense really. What else could he want to ask her about that made him look so nervous. She wanted to cry, she hadn't wanted to tell him yet, she wanted to wait until they were over six months old, so they understood better. She formed the words into a sentence in her head. Only to allow them to crumble and float away like crumbs on smoke. It was hard to speak of it, and she didn't know what to say.

For a moment the words did not penetrate and Thistle just stared at her eldest son. Then she breathed a sigh of relief silently. So it was not about his real father. She frowned then, he wanted to leave them why on earth would he want to leave them? She pursed her lips and then began to speak Why do you want to leave now? I mean you are not half grown yet, not that you couldn't take care of yourself, but well why?