Qeya River I know the pieces fit

Their prospects were grim, at best. Laura remained tense in his crouched position, keeping the Sun Eater in the corner of one eye, and Senka in the other. A slight can’t of his head brought the other into his vision- but he remained silent. Ksura hadn’t even looked at him long enough to realize that he, as well, was wounded. 

He couldn’t quiet the hornet’s nest of thoughts buzzing around his mind; if Wren and Silvertongue came back…If Darrow and Rowyn and the other kids came back…What was best? What could they do? Would he have to chase his own son off into the wilderness to spare him from this life, or would they have moved on by then? Would his own son think that he had forgotten about him when he came home and found that everyone had left?

And Ash Star…She was dead. So freshly interred that the grief had not yet had time to blossom.

So long as Senka gave no name, he wouldn’t either. Darkly he wondered what he would be called, and if it would mock and capture his cowardice each and every time it was spoken.