lose your faith in me

Rhyme sat stoically in front of the too-tiny grave at his feet. Blue and lavender gaze looked out over the rapids, his features blank. His heart hurt as he took in his son’s grave. The sharpened antler still lay across the top of it, and the herbs that Tana had placed were starting to grow in nicely. He tried not to think about how big Darilnor would be at this point, how much he would have learned or even what his voice would sound like.

The slate alpha still took his father’s words to heart, he focused heavily on the pups he had growing now. They were already so big he could hardly believe it. They’d be six months old when summer would eventually roll around. Soon they would start deciding on their areas of study. Rhyme couldn’t help but wonder which path Darilnor might have taken.

He sighed softly as he placed his paw over the resting place of his tiny pup. Life went on, but that didn’t make it any easier.