[Training] [SE] but the silence was unbroken

KORBIN

And round about his home the glory
That blushed and bloomed,

It didn't matter that it was 'only' a cannibal. It was not about the exile, or the fight, or his mortal peril, or even Loren's bleeding arm and roaring dragon. Korbin couldn't even say why this incident had gotten to him so deeply when so many other things had happened before. Perhaps it was the last straw to break the camel's back. Maybe it was because of the immensity of the burden a life really was, and that it went against everything he really wanted to do.

Maybe there just was no reason at all.

Still mostly lost to the world, Korbin obeyed the gentle directions to lie down, and slumped back onto the bed. The furs were too hot and not warm enough, the hairs poking and prickling, tickling and disturbing his senses. Reaching out a hand, he made to tug Weaver down beside him, and tried to pull her in close, so he could tuck his head onto her shoulder.

How long had it been since he lay like that? Years, probably. He had been a lot smaller, a lot younger, and cried for a mother that never came back, no matter how long he waited. Korbin didn't cry now, but the ache inside his chest was the same.

Maybe if he could be allowed to pretend, for just a moment, that none of this had happened... he might find a way back to himself.

Is but a dim-remembered story
Of the old time entombed.