Shadewood two hearts, too hard

His parents left him and took two of his siblings. Jesus, how awful was that? Boone found himself frowning, even as the little guy seemed to shrug it off as if it were nothing.
And now, Iseul and the other pup; god knows where either of them went. He clears his throat as the dryness of it begins to take hold. You've been through a lot, his shoulders slump. Did he even realize that? it's okay to let yourself miss 'em. Believe me.
The question is turned on him as the trees grow more and more sparse, transitioning to a wide stretch of pale foothills as the sound of rushing water grows closer; seasalt clings to the humid air. There's a heavy pause, a thickness to it, as his eyes gleam with something unrecognizable. I was a lot like you, his lip curves into a smile, one of fondness. my mama and my daddy both kicked the bucket when I was real young. Don't got no siblings. I had to learn how to live on my own. he draws a slow breath. Damn near didn't make it.
Mount Chesney. He thinks of the temple, the way his mama wrapped herself around him after worship. Catching fireflies and holding them in a soft mouth, the redness of daddy's face when his bumbling son tracked muck from the creek into the den. He thinks of how he doesn't remember what their voices sounded like.
And he looks down at this child; this little boy so disenchanted already, and he fights the tears that glaze his eyes.
But the river's not too far, now. You ever been fishin', l'il man?