Stone Circle It's you, it's me, it's us

Gathered tight against Tauris’ side, looking up into her doleful, misty eyes, Kristjan felt a single grain of love fall into his hourglass of hurt. Every emotional neuron he had in his body was singed by the anger and frustration he felt towards his- no, Kvarsheim’s loss. He wanted this to be over. He wanted things to go back to normal: a joyful mother, an ailing but present father, happy siblings, his biggest problem being a bully sister.

But everything had changed in one surreal day, and nothing had felt quite right since putting Faðir forever in the ground.

At this stage in his grief, he required an outlet, but the boy lacked motivation needed for aggression, so he took out all his grievances on sticks, bones, roots, whatever inanimate objects he could rake his milk teeth on. This left him snaggletoothed, sheltering a gummy pink smile beneath the hood of his lips, which he cheerlessly shared with Tauris now. His attempt at a brave face. I promise.

His mis-matched eyes turned to his siblings, wondering if they promised, too.