Otatso Wetlands tragic eyes I can't recognize myself behind

As he drew nearer, he could see the young man better. His legs became glued to the ground once again as he stopped a comfortable distance away and studied him for a moment. The boy bore no obvious scars upon his woody exterior, or any notable distinguishing markings for that matter. Tahoe was the same way, albeit his myriad of battle scars. He supposed the yearling had been smarter than him and stayed clear of trouble.

Briefly he recalled when his own children were that age, they were too big to feed, dancing on the brink of going out on their own. Thinking about them made his heart hurt, though he adamantly refused to admit the fact. He passed over the recollection as soon as it had come.

The yearling's answer, breaking the silence, put a thin smile on his face. He was friendly but timid based on demeanor, knowledgeably so. Tahoe related with his dilemma, as he too was also wandering, quite aimlessly, but chose to give no outward indication of it.

Obviously, He answered, stoic, yet a veiled amusement flickered behind his yellow eyes. The way out. It's this way, He continued, gesturing with a tilt of his head in the direction he had been previously travelling in, then doggedly began to set forth without waiting for a reply.