Snowforest Taiga broken boy

oh. they're fighting. arguing, really—the mad woman scolds and the reaper stands stalwart. as cold and icy as the first time they met. roakan's ears pin again, his stance cowardly. citrine eyes flitting back and forth, an awkward third party member to a fight he did not want. 

he feels like a child again, watching with a frown as his mother and father argue. 

they keep calling him a boy. his frown deepens. he is a man! right? he flounders and trips and struggles, but he is still a man...

"i am not a boy." he mutters, though it's a weak and quiet wisp that's squandered by their bickering. the reaper spits out that roakan is not his, and he is right. that doesn't make it sting any less though. 

"guys—don't fight, please. i can take care of myself." though as he said it, even he himself was not convinced. another swish of his tail, he tries to break it up. to be the mediator, as always. "hey, why don't we all three hunt something bigger? y'know, better odds and all!"