Through the Fire and the Flame we Carry On

Rhyme seemed to shrink into himself at the question, and was silent for a moment. "Grieving." he mumbled simply, and the wisp frowned. His auds tipped back and his brows furrowed with concern. Who was he grieving? The longer he peered up at the larger male, the more concerned he became. His eyes appeared glassy. Something must be seriously wrong. "We never announced the loss," he continued softly, and Epitaph remained silent. He was patient, so he would wait for Rhyme to finish in his own time. "Tana and I lost one of our pups, and we laid him here." he finally said, quiet as a whisper. A soft whine pulled from the dark male's throat, sympathetic but unable to truly comprehend that kind of loss. Dimly, at the back of his mind, he was surprised to learn that Rhyme was the father of another woman's children. The tiny woman he'd first met upon arriving here, no less.

"I'm sorry," he rasped, leaning ever so slightly closer to the behemoth. His shoulder barely brushed against his flank, but it was the best he could do. "He's in a better place." he offered hesitantly, gaze dropping to the antler that lay on the ground ahead. In his past, he'd been well acquainted with death. Pups often died among the slavers, who only cultivated the strongest of youngsters. However, this didn't seem like the kind of place where they wantonly let pups die. When they did, there was real emotion around it, and mourning.