I suck too. ;-;
She had experienced trauma he never had. Ezekiel’s life had suffered in other ways—in solitude, in anguish, but never in such a terrible way as his sister. The coyote had been beaten and broken and he had betrayed his father by abandoning his home twice over. Further in the wilderness he had seen war and turmoil and chaos, but there was no end to the wicked thing that had been done to her. Such evil could not be forgiven. Hatred had grown in him for such acts, for those who hurt the weak and did wrong. So he had saved Siobhan from her mother even though the girl had not wished to leave. He had forced her, as he believed was his duty. He would force Talitha in the same way if he understood the extent of her self-suffering.
He moved things across the hide, realizing his sister had his knife. As he turned to ask her for his bag she spoke, and the golden prince frowned. Her tone concerned him, and the coyote rose to look her in the face. Taller and broader then his sister, he realized once more how frail she looked. “You can always talk to me,” he said, giving her that warm smile that did not meet his eyes.
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