Bearclaw Valley maybe they’re right

evien spoke and merrick listened, hangdog and worn, tired and finding that he agreed, however grudgingly, with the bruin-leaf's assessment. it was pride that compelled him to stand against it, to deny that donovan would do anything but stand in good faith. pride melting into shame that he had surrendered himself with such abandon to the tiger, shame bleeding into a pillar of guilt that lodged uncomfortably in his gut.
"yes," merrick answered finally in a voice too small for the scarring of his face. he trudged the precipice between sanity and freer thought, but the physician was grounding, his offer an invitation for the octopian mind to latch.