King Elk Forest the sweet relief of knowing nothing comes for free

mona does not seem angry with him for his failure to remove the wretched thing, but he feels guilt anyway, watching her shrug small at the ground. whatever it is, it's a burden she shouldn't have to bear. he does not have time to linger on his own feelings of inadequency for long -- she abruptly switches the topic on him. startled, the morwinyon raises a paw as if to step back, only to place it back down, scuffing the snowy dirt awkwardly. who is mato to him? there'd been a moment, hadn't there, where delight had seen a vision of a future that seemed to have borne no fruit. "my previous home was destroyed in an avalanche," delight explains, "mato was the first i met after that, and he immediately took me in." he swallows, feeling the words heavy in his mouth. "he was. is. my morwinyon," the androgyne manages, feeling heat flood his cheeks, fearing he's already revealed too much even in that chaste description. his feelings are not exactly a secret to any, but he does not like to advertise them nonetheless -- especially not when there's no chance of reciprocation (or rather, any chance he had at that having been dashed out with the light in mato's eyes).