Deepwood Weald the only ring i want buried with me are the ones around my eyes

Alarian didn't answer his question; he just stood up and began to move towards the den opening. Alarian, he said, the word twisted with confusion and pain. Rejection was not something Midar processed well, and he could feel his chest moving too quickly as his breathing grew shallow and fast. He said he needed to think, and then he was gone. Midar was frozen for a few moments, trying to understand how such a peaceful and content morning had suddenly become so fucked up. What did he mean he needed to think? What was there to think about? The beast stood, ready to go after him, but what would he say? He was frozen again, but this time with indecision as he stared out into the falling snow. 

Fuck, he growled, the sound filling the empty den. Nothing was ever easy with Alarian.