Dragoncrest Cliffs Bichir

Naw, I ain’t hungry.

Swordfish hated to see her worry. He hated to know that she was there, fretting over his dumb mistakes. The young redtail could feel Quennell shift beside him. He hated that his friend was there, too. They had really gotten messed up. It felt too heavy for his head to hold. Pieces of the trauma had started to spill over the edge, fraying his easy-going ways.

C’mere ma, he asked of her.

I’m sorry.

The weight of his words sat upon his chest, suffocating him.