His eyes were red-rimmed but steady, his jaw set with grim resolve. He didn't speak as there was no need to. He simply pulled part of his own cloak over her and stood beside her, letting the rest of the rain fall on him.
Modred. Urmaa's son. The brother she had from another mother.
Hours passed and wolves howled in the distance. Still, he remained.
Every time she slumped forward, Modred straightened her again, keeping her upright. He never touched her more than necessary. Never said a word. Just… stood.
This was all her fault. It was always her fault. Good thing the rain silenced her cries and washed her tears away with it.
From Urmaa down to him, they were always getting into trouble because of her sake. Perhaps the people were all right about her being a burden.
