Silvertip Mountain antipathy

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he had not loved clarice as was befitting a son, but then again, She had not embraced Her children as a mother should. by turns She had coddled them, but Her love had been the smothering air of fire's smoke — in retrospect, buffalo had rather preferred Her savage nature.

nudging his sister with a wave of his plume, the boy shook his head firmly. he did not wish it. clarice's presence was not a need of his. i have you, buffalo answered simply, his words accompanied by a smile more wan than usual.

do you? came his next inquiry; surely byll did not, for she too had suffered and chafed beneath clarice's odd love and abuses.