10-30-2008, 12:31 AM
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On several occasions, his father had proclaimed his hatred for him. Only once had he ever come clean and said he would have killed him outright. That had been the crossing mark, the final straw. When Damian had died, Ahren felt nothing. No regret, no sorrow, no joy. He had simply been indifferent. Apathetic. He hadn’t cared either way. Damian had been dead long before that September, and dead long before they had burnt him.
A half-hearted yet honest smile crossed Ahren’s face, and he leaned against the doorway. “I’m fine,” he said, wondering if that was a lie. For a few moments more he was quiet, then once again vocalized the very real truth he felt coming in the wind. “We need to find somewhere to stay for the winter.”
On several occasions, his father had proclaimed his hatred for him. Only once had he ever come clean and said he would have killed him outright. That had been the crossing mark, the final straw. When Damian had died, Ahren felt nothing. No regret, no sorrow, no joy. He had simply been indifferent. Apathetic. He hadn’t cared either way. Damian had been dead long before that September, and dead long before they had burnt him.
A half-hearted yet honest smile crossed Ahren’s face, and he leaned against the doorway. “I’m fine,” he said, wondering if that was a lie. For a few moments more he was quiet, then once again vocalized the very real truth he felt coming in the wind. “We need to find somewhere to stay for the winter.”