Sun Mote Copse slow dancer, no answer

arcturus' heart twisted - for himself, and for his brother.

for all that was said and done. for all the pieces disassembled and cascading to the floor. for how jarilo tried to make sense of these pieces, when arcturus had simply left them where they shattered and moved on.

perhaps, that was how his brother coped.

arcturus' head lifted, gazing skyward as if to forbid the frustrated tears that were threatening to become visible. at length he looked downward, a long sigh pressed through his nostrils. never had he felt so separate from his family -- as if that river was widening and widening.

"you're not bothering me. " arcturus confided, bothered more by his feelings on the matter and why his brother seemed to reawaken them. it was not intention to have this rift -- he hated the bad blood between them. how could he make jarilo understand, when the two of them saw very different sides of the spear? "it won't be the end," a pause as he tried to arrange his words in a manner that made sense to him, when his thoughts were going every which way but in coherence. is the blood that bad? -- emphatically, yes, arcturus wanted to reply, but he held his tongue and opted instead for an indirect answer. "you should not think too much about this." for the first time, arcturus was telling his brother what to do: "there were many things that drove me to this fork in the road, and to dissect each of them would only make your head spin. it would be cause for more questions than answers. the real answer is i am here, and you are there -- our lives are still intersected, but different. all that bad blood will in time fade away, but i will not come back to the spear. my place is here, now."