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[ic] i'm outta bullets so fuck it, i use my knife
He had collapsed right inside the door, on the hard floor that now had the tiny speckles of his tears scattered around. He hadn’t done anything about his feelings toward his father – just the ordinary thing Kansas did. He ignored them. And now he was paying for it, sprawled across his dark room crying like a toddler. He was overcome with shame, with his utter uselessness to everyone he cared about.
Phoenix had done nothing to anger Kansas. He didn’t see how he could be upset with his father, if what happened to him had been against his will. Unexpectedly, a knock roused him – he hadn’t heard anyone approaching. He wanted to stay there where no one could see him and just do this alone. What if it was Savina? She couldn’t see him like this. Kansas wiped his eyes against the side of his paw.
Iskata was outside the door. His mother had delivered the letter – but he’d assumed that by the time he found it she’d been gone for hours. Kansas opened the door to his silver-gold mother, whose soft eyes were full of love and concern. Mom… I’m so sor – I – I’m sorry. He hung his head and attempted to steady his voice. When did you get this? The paper was beneath him. He backed up and nosed it closer to her, though he probably hadn’t needed to. She knew what he was talking about.