Bearclaw Valley a seminar about whether or not deer feel pain or are just sad

Abel’s eyes — raw and weary — weighed down within his skull from a lack of sleep. At this point he rejected sleep whenever he was physically capable. His reoccurring nightmares denied him of any proper rest anyways. He went through enough anguish while he was awake. He would not allow himself to be tortured in his dreams of he could help it.
Too exhausted and unmotivated to do much else, the child lays on his sides and watches his chest rise and fall from the corner of his eye.
Beyond his prickly fur he sees Æsilfír running towards him. She’d come to torture him in her own irritating way, no doubt. 
With an exasperated sigh, Abel lifted his head to glare in her direction. His scowl was swiftly wiped from his face when she began to snap at him however. He’d expected such lashings from the one eyed man, but not her. She’d always given warning signs between her chatter, but today was different story.
Abel whined beneath his breath as she spoke, too shocked by her actions to comprehend the weight of the situation at first.
W-why would you… what? Git up. Her urgent commands were registered slowly, so too did the information. Merrick is dead. He didn’t know who that was, nor Aventus. But he did know he didn’t want to die. So he stood, and fell into an awkward, hasty trot. All the while he looked back at the woman.
Where are we going? I-I can’t. He’ll catch me. He’ll- he’ll kill me! He began to quicken the longer he thought on the situation. 
What about Indra? She came to his mind suddenly and his heart twisted around itself. Wherever they went, they couldn’t go without her. We.. can’t.. leave her here!, he wheezed. His rapidly pumping lungs set his throat aflame, and the fire moved through his body.