Stone Circle In eyes of father to son

Each word Gunnar spoke was snatched greedily by his ears. Held tightly to chest along with every prior moment. To be sorted through at a later date. Something to guide him through his uncertainty.

What he understood came to him slowly. Youth, inexperience, and doubt addling his mind. Faith was a hard concept for him to grasp. But was it not faith to still believe in his father when the man admitted to him his own doubts?

I believe in you too. As he did his mother. And Tauris, and Skáld. His littermates. He had many others to believe in, didn't he?

Ujurak lifted a forearm to wipe his eyes. They had grown heavy and the wellspring from which his tears flowed had dried. The lingering flush left a heat in its wake, barely soothed when he closed his eyes. His grip around his father loosened, not quite ready to let go. Emotions tempered by his own exhaustion, he stared at his arms. Fur pressed and tearstained. He sniffled loudly.




Thank you for the hug.