The roar of the river was one of the few things that quiet the panic in his heart. The thunderous movement of the rapids match the thunderous movement in his chest, the fear and worry threatening to cut off his breath. He didn't know what to do. He didn't know what to say. He didn't know anything. that, alone, was enough to tear the emotions from his chest, to make him want to wilt into a small ball and cry. They haven't said anything yet, his parents, but he was observant. He already saw what they were trying to hide. He saw the pain that his mother was in, the exertion that she had to put forth just to be able to walk a short distance from the den, the extreme tiredness that she was facing that was so different from how she was just a couple of months ago. He was so acutely aware of it, and as far as he knew, there wasn't a damn thing that he could do about it. What was tearing him apart.

He asked Lillianna about it of course, but she tried to hide it. She tried to dumb it down, but she had never really been good at hiding it from her eyes. He could see it, and he could tell from the way that her face would scrunch up in pain whenever she was walking too long, whenever her breath would come in fast just after a short time. And yet, she would always say that she was fine.

The boy sniffled, head dangling over the roaring water that was splashing up into his face. It didn't take long for his face to get soaked from the spraying mist, but he barely noticed the wetness, too absorbed in his own thoughts.

It had grown increasingly obvious that their kids understood that their mom was sick. Sick enough that it was worrisome, and that it didn't seem like a simple cold that she could easily shake. It'd been bad enough that he'd had to ask Sparrow for help, and thankfully for him she had willingly complied. Things, though, hadn't gone quite according to plan - and a carefree outing with his sister had quickly gone south, and now she was dead. Lark hadn't come home right away. He was a fucking coward - he was sure of it. It didn't matter how many times he kept reminding himself that Sparrow had willingly sacrifice herself so that he might escape and make it back home to his family; he shouldn't done something, right? Anything? It was hard to forget the sound of that bear mauling her out of his head, though by the time he eventually made it back to Abaven everything felt numb. His limbs quivered from the journey, yet he continued on as if being pulled by some external force back home. Lillie was still stick, and his kids were still around, and he had to come back to reality... eventually. Perhaps... more quickly than he wanted to. He wasn't sure where he was headed, but as he wandered closer to the rapids and Aiden's scent caught his attention he knew he couldn't ignore it. Something about his scent seemed.. distressed? What if he was hurt and in need of attention? Immediately on alert, Lark trailed after his son's scent, that dull ache in his chest replaced with a frantic and unwarranted anxiety, one that would only be quelled by seeing that Aiden was, in fact, alright. At least physically. Lark found him hovering dangerous close to the edge of the rapids, his head hung low, and his pace slowed as he cleared his throat to announce his presence. "Aiden," he greeted his son, his voice low - he hoped his tone didn't betray the deep ache of heartbreak that had threatened to swallow him whole. "You alright?" Slowly he moved to recline beside the boy, nosing his shoulder gently.