Otter Creek Does it hurt to feel so high?

The scent had invaded all spaces of Etienne’s world. And where most would find it intoxicating and in a sense he did. He could freely admit. Heda or the widow was beautiful and her scent alluring. But Etienne bless his soul wanted nothing to do with it.

But he doubted Anselm would let it alone. He needed to get away from them both. Find somewhere to just exist, to be Etienne.

Where he could love the mountain boy silently, without any possible exposure of his secret. Because how could, more so why would, anyone love a sea born boy with mask of family face.

He stumbled so lost in his thoughts and found himself staring into the waters edge. Covered in ice. His granme staring back. How long had it been since he had actually looked at himself.

He traced the contours of golden eyes. The dark brown mask that covered the sandy color of his fur.

He dashed a paw at it again and again and again, until bloody prints and jagged pieces were all that were left.

Then he curled his body tightly into a ball and cried. Silent as he could.