Stone Circle Sewing stitch by stitch

@Cyron if you have time? :) Backdated to around the 29th Jan. Bit of a short post, apologies!

The man tried as hard as he could to be there, a warm figure to protect his youngest and someone his boy could come to whenever he needed to talk - but it was not always as easy as just being there. It was becoming apparent to him that he should spent more time with his kids while he was able, just in case he might ever lose another shameless foreshading. He'd gone out during the early hours of the morning as he often did, bringing home a rabbit tightly held in his jaws. Maybe Cyron would not wish to eat the food he brought, but he would offer it regardless.

Mawk sought out the boy, approaching first the den and peeking inside to see if the ashen youth was there. "Cyron?"

sleep does not come easy to cyron. it hasn't in quite some time. he no longer even tries to keep up pretenses of being able to share a den with his parents anymore — the walls and press of their bodies and combined heat presses down onto him until his throat begins to close and each breath is a panic filled struggle. he needs his own space, his own den ...but he does not delude himself into thinking he would use it much of the time. he has to be able to see the stars, to see the vast and never ending expanse of the sky. even then, there are some nights he does not sleep at all. if he's asleep: he's vulnerable. if he's asleep the nightmares leech into his brain like the roots of a greedy parasite.

most mornings, like this particular morning, he can be found slumbering lightly — light enough that he won't dream — curled up nearby his parent's den. cyron stirs awake easily as he hears mawk call for him and lets out a yawn with a slight stretch. he'd just gotten asleep an hour or so ago making his sleep more of a cat nap but he has no intentions of telling his father that. he's internalized everything about his time spent in captivity, shielding his parents from the horrors he's endured beyond what they could physically see upon his arrival back home. "hey dad." cyron greets mawk as he rises and shakes his pelt free of errant debris, his curled tail giving a soft wag in greeting. dull chestnut gaze goes to the rabbit hanging from betwixt his father's jaws before it flickers back up to his pop's face. eating is a whole other demon but it's becoming easier and slowly his appetite is returning and growing bigger.

It was true that Mawk and Cebra knew very little of Cyron's experience with the Blackfeather wolves, but the way in which his son acted was sign enough that he had endured some horrible things and he knew his boy had suffered terribly from the event. One day perhaps the secrets would be spilled, but the man had little want to pressure the youth into talking - when he was ready, Mawk was here. Despite what some might think, time could not heal all wounds, and Cyron was no exeption to this.

The voice greeted him and he gazed toward his son, a small smile curling at the edge of his lips. He was improving, this much was evident, he only hoped this progress would continue. Placing the rabbit's body at his black-tipped paws, Mawk opened his jaws to speak again. "Ah, you're here. I wondered whether you might want to sit and share this with me." Tail swaying gently upon his back, gesturing to the prey, he cupped his ears forward to catch a response. He was aware the boy struggled with eating sometimes but there had been significant advancements from when Cyron had originally returned home.

cyron hesitates but not at the offer to sit. he prefers to eat in solitude, without prying or concerned eyes looking to see if he will keep it down or if his stomach will roil and reject what he offers it. or if he can even eat it at all without his throat constricting and panic sweeping over him as he tries to swallow as he inevitably fears choking on it. in private, this does not happen too often and he can typically eat without the irrational spike of anxiety; and for the most part, these days, he's keeping his food down as his stomach acclimates to having a regular schedule of food. "i'll sit with you," cyron accepts half of the offer but swallows thickly as he peers a bit disdainfully at the rabbit as if it's the corpse's fault he struggles ( he knows it's not ). "but i- i'm not hungry, thanks though." cyron offers as a lackluster explanation as to why he's rejects the second half of his fathers's offer.

The Delta felt a little disheartened at the decline of the offer to eat, though he understood and did not let any sadness show upon his features. Instead his lips quirked in a soft smile, nodding and coming a little closer before lowering himself onto his haunches, curled tail resting gently across his back. He placed the rabbit just beside him, planning to eat it in a moment rather than right in front of Cyron. 

"Have you met Valette's kids?" He inquired after a few heartbeats of silence. Despite how much Mawk wanted to remind his son he was always there and whatnot, he knew sometimes that it might come across as pressing and prodding, and he didn't want that. He wanted Cyron to come to him when/if he was ready, not feeling forced to. So he began with just a simple question, wishing to enjoy the moment and bond more with the lastborn of his children.