Bramblepoint Make it after all

His good eye narrowed at her words. For a moment, the stillness between them felt heavy. Her attempt at comfort, though well-meaning, struck a nerve he didn’t acknowledge outright. “Maybe,” he responded quietly, tone measured, lacking the bite she might have expected. “Or maybe it is a weakness. A wolf who forgets his past forgets his purpose.”

He paused, the faintest twitch of his scarred muzzle betraying some inner conflict. The thought of his memories, lost and scattered like ash in the wind, gnawed at him. It was both a void and a weight, something he couldn’t escape even if he wanted to.

Stark’s posture didn’t soften, but his tone dipped further, colder now. “Blocking it out will not change that it happened. It will not undo it.” His gaze drifted briefly to the horizon, the looming mountains etched against the sky, before snapping back to her. “Whatever it may be, it is ultimately mine to carry.”

He shifted slightly, the movement deliberate as he squared his shoulders. “Do not waste your breath trying to make it seem like a kindness.” His voice grew sharper, more pointed. “It’s survival. Nothing more.”