Perhaps it was peculiar, the way he greeted her. To another it might have been clear that his pain had been what had drawn her to him. But to him it only felt natural to first assure that she was, in fact, alright. The only thing that was obvious to him in his present state was that he was blinded by his suffering. So how was he to know that she was okay without asking her? He shifted slightly, his hindquarters nudging to the left to accommodate her motion to draw closer to him. His eyes followed her movements, not exactly studying her, just observing the way her body compensated for the uneven surfaces. Her gaze turned upon him, and her facial expression caused Sleekwing’s ears to prick forward just as her pulled back. She was sad, and his immediate concern was that it was his fault. She looked away then, but he continued to watch her. His sad eyes stared at her without shame or withholding. That white pinnacle that adorned her crown was like some kind of beacon in the darkness the consumed him.

What could she do for him? His brows pulled together, furrowing slightly. There wasn’t anything that could be done to fix the hole in his heart. Over time surely the pain of losing of his parents would lessen, and the hole would shrink, but it would always be present. No, there was nothing she could do to help him in that respect. But the guilt that burdened him could perhaps be alleviated. For a while he remained silent, letting his gaze slowly shift to match her own while he processed his thoughts. He exhaled sharply through his nostrils before he spoke. This time he did his best to compose his thoughts before he spoke them.

“Is it wrong, for me to stay there? To serve the wolf who killed my mother? She claims it was unintentional, but who knows.” He cast his gaze down to his paws, pushing a few small pebbles off the ledge of the rock. A feeling of vulnerability washed over him, and he suddenly felt far younger than his years, so uncertain about what he should do. The mountains were a part of him, just as much as he was a part of them. For many years he had stood as a sentinel on the highest peaks of the mountain, watching over the pack that was his family. Though the call to arms had never been issued, he had been the mountain’s hercules, and had helped to train aspiring young warriors. That was his life. The idea of change did not scare him, but he felt no need for it. And that was where his guilt stemmed from. He didn’t feel a need to leave Spirane, even though he now served his mother’s destroyer. Wasn’t that wrong, on some level?