here when its hard

There was something very familiar about pushing the remains of a training dummy to a tidy pile. It brought him back to older days, training younger wolves on his beach training grounds. It brought an amused smile to his maw as he dusted off his paws overtop of the pile.

The smile turned into something closer to a smirk at the boy's words. “I’m not a complete fool. I don’t think you believed me the first time.” He let out a soft sigh, silent for a moment. He looked about the dojo, taking in this training space for knights before he spoke. “There are stages of grief Art, you and your Mumma dragged me kicking and screaming out of the worst one.” He left it at that. He wasn’t…. Suicidal anymore. More reckless perhaps, but not actively seeking out the end. Perhaps Asla had helped with that. His girl. She would never, ever forgive him. He could no longer fool himself otherwise.

“I’m here for Resin” And you and Tamsyn he left unsaid. His grief could be stuffed into a box, now that the jagged edges of it had smoothed a little. Today, tomorrow, Resin and her kin came first. He was done being selfish. (Or as much as the bastard could be)

"Speech"