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Vercingetorix was right: for Dragomir, that wasn't a satisfactory explanation at all. In fact, it only stoked the flames of his grief higher. It was bad enough for him that his mother was leaving him when he needed her the most, but it was worse to hear that his parents didn't get along. That was self evident, but to hear it from Vercingetorix's own mouth was like a crippling blow.

(It truly had nothing to do with him, but his upset at the instability of his life was boiling over and infecting every part of him with a selfishness befitting a much younger wolf than Dragomir.)

Why'd you even have us then? the boy demanded, glaring at his feet as the tears began to fall. If they didn't get along then why did they have kids? Didn't they realize how fucked up that was? Didn't they think they might be better off without kids if they didn't even like each other? (and do they regret us? his mind whispered darkly, convincing him that they did and that was why Aurë was always sad).