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Voron ached with pity for this wolf. She knew death, knew the bitter taste of grief better than most. Yet, she had no idea how to handle the grief of others. When her brother died, Voron had found little comfort in her family. They had blamed her, and were right to. When she lost her parents, she had fled. Distancing herself from the problem both emotionally and physically was the only balm she knew of. But she wanted to comfort this strange male. He was so fragile, so translucent. His emotions floated clearly through whatever barriers he had up.
“He-e-e-e wa-as my… half-brother… I just… nee-ee-ee… ee…ded… to… t-a-alk to… him, but… now… I can’t!”
Voron knew how much a brother could mean to someone. She felt guilt start to build; maybe she shouldn't have told him. Maybe she should have sent him away with hope still left.
But that would have been far more cruel in the end.
“Why…? Wh… h…”
That word was loaded with so much. "I knew him when he was a leader, and i respected him. He was kind to me. I don't know know how he died exactly. I know he didn't deserve it." Voron moved uncertainly, not knowing if touch would comfort him.
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