Duskfire Glacier deep down, you hide a reason for shame

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— blackfell hears her words. of course he does.
but they fall upon a deafening silence. he cannot speak, for he has no words to say. the only sign that he has heard her, or even acknowledged her, the twitch of clipped ears.
the rise and fall of his sides as he breathes.
for a moment, his head turns and he looks over his shoulder—not fully. enough that his side profile is visible against the shadows of the den; his lips twitch. it's as if he might speak. but he does not, turning his head to the outrance again.
swallowing stiffly.
it is not a matter of being brave. he had never been brave in his life. he simply existed. he did what he must, and that was all. he was duty-bound. his father had created him in his image. he was a crownore. he was onyx, cold, and unbreaking.
it was a matter of guilt.