06-10-2009, 12:28 PM
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Listening to her speak about her mother made the boy suddenly miss his terribly. Faolin had come and gone like smoke and like a summer storm. She meant little to him, and indeed, Fatin and Tristan had served him far better then his own parents. He had, by all accounts, grown up in a different world. Cwmfen’s warning did not go unheard; he thought of taking Siobhan, and attacking the ring-eyed hybrid. Both times he could justify himself, but were they poor excuses? Perhaps. The doubt began to cling to him like rainwater.
Then she asked about his father and the boy’s ears turned back guiltily. “I…I never told him. He hates your pack. I didn’t want him to be angry with me.” He inhaled, smelling salt-water and ash.“He asked me about it as I was healing. I told him then. I think he understands why I want to train with you, though. He said that he could tell you were a warrior.” Almost sheepishly, he looked over to the woman, gold-yellow eyes torn between a thousand emotions. “I’m sorry if I caused you any trouble.” [/html]