Kildeer Rest otter boy

she watched him go, the storm of his emotions evident in every hurried step, in every tense line of his retreating figure. the words he flung at her hung in the cold air, sharp and stinging. but she did not chase after him.

he is young, she murmured softly to herself, the faintest trace of a smile tugging at her lips, though it was touched with sadness. he will find his way.

she bent to collect the rabbit he had left behind, its blood a stark contrast against the snow. gently, she placed it among her herbs, as though the act of tending to his forgotten work might bridge the distance he was so desperate to create.