Fox's Glade Conflict

Listening quietly as the woman spoke, he blinked slowly, head somewhat tilted so that he could look down at the woman. He flicked his tongue out to wet his lips, his nose, and his tail flicked as she continued. I hate leaving you, he murmured. Sure, the return to her was worth the departure, but part of him wish he never had to go at all.

And the creek--he felt he did owe them something. Perhaps out of honour, an important attribute in his youth. He felt that respecting them meant being of use to them until he got a solid lead on his brother. And the community, the people he could meet, be around... he knew that, while he was close with Milan, there'd always be someone for him at Bearclaw Valley, but...

I don't know how to explain it, a slow shake of his head. I feel like I owe it to them, my loyalty. It's what my father would want. Perhaps he was just going to spill everything today, like water trickling from a crack in a dam. If Milan said the right trigger-words, his life could come tumbling out of his already tired maw.

He looked at Milan, gaze soft, warm. Loyalty is important to me. His charming, nonchalant self almost a ghost. He was raw. Tender. Longing for the companionship that he never quite had; not after the death of his father, the disappearance of his brother.

Frederick sighed.