Dahozhoni Meadow Here where I once

pride! it burst in his heart to hear the beauty of his language graced on her tongue. for a few seconds he struggles to control the swell of it in the form of a single tear;

he reaches for her and restrains himself. there is so much to say. no gifts now. only conflict and resentment.

soto sighs.  there is so much more he owes to his pearl than he can give.

so he utters aloud the first word he's ever spoken in that detestable tongue. come. for her. he would learn that language and drink its customs and swallow its entire tradition all for a single glitter of approval in that remaining eye. he would do terrible things, again and again, to see her look upon him favorably.

he moves off, looking over his spine only once.