Even chance

He'd been near silent since walking away from his father. Other than tutting briefly over the wound, it was mostly seething silence. The things said between Dread and his father had wounded the boy in a way that was harder to heal than physical. He'd bared some real, true feelings... and the response had come like a slap in the face. There would be a day that those feelings would tip over into something far worse than just emotions, yes. Today wasn't that day. The boy moved stiffly, sore from the day's fights, though he kept time with Deluge.

Stepping out into the chilly water was a shock to his system, but a welcome one. It soothed the raw flesh, the scrapes and bruises. It's only now that he realized just how badly his head hurt, too. What did he even say to Deluge, after she'd heard so much? What could he say? He was grateful when she finally broke the silence on her own. Gaze remaining trained out over the water, he let go a ragged sigh. "I never knew. I've never felt like I can talk about her with him." The loss of his mother had hurt him deeply, and there were so many things he hadn't processed. Dread spent so much time trying and failing to care for his father's emotions, for his siblings' emotions, that he hadn't taken the time to feel on his own. He'd always billed himself as the strong one, and he couldn't have let them see him break. Not in his mind, at least.

"How's your cut?" Dread turned to look at her now, gaze settling on her face. Concern mixed with guilt as he looked to Deluge, feeling very responsible for the bloody outcome of the afternoon.

"speech"