Mercy stood very still as his mother wheeled around, and surprisingly did not flinch when her teeth were bared at him. She looked at him for a moment, but he yet again avoided eye contact. She came closer but he did not wilt- he couldn't wilt any more than he already had. The tears fell freely from his down-turned eyes and he shuddered slightly with each breath he took, struggling not to whine or make any sounds as he cried. His lips trembled violently and his ears shook slightly as they remained flat against his skull, the very tip of his tail shuddering between his hind ankles. He felt the pull of gravity upon him, heavy and relentless, and felt that he might never be able to lift one of his paws ever again.

When his mother spoke, it wasn't with warmth. She sought to convince him that he was her son, whether they were related by blood or not, but the boy, for the first time, found it very hard to believe her. For that moment he silently agreed not to say such a thing again, but in his heart he felt that what he'd said was true. He wasn't actually her son, he was simply something she'd taken pity on and had taken in because it wasn't proper to let a pup die. He was a burden, and here he was, making things even harder for her. That's all he was- a weight for her to carry. And he felt very guilty and sorry that he'd come into her life.

He didn't say anything and the silence irked her. Her hackles raised slightly, but she told herself not to yell at him again. She wanted to scruff him, force him down against the ground and make him apologize for what he'd done and especially what he'd said, but she couldn't do so. The way he stood, so sombre and unhappy, pulled at her heartstrings. She told herself, though, that she couldn't go soft on him. She couldn't simply let him do as he pleased or he'd get hurt or injured. She gritted her teeth in the silence and told herself she was doing the right thing. She couldn't let him get hurt. She couldn't lose him. And out of desperation and a lack of know-how, the first-time mother moved forward and struck out at her son.

Her paw shot out and gave him a sound swat on the behind. She said nothing for a moment, but instantly regretted having hit her son. The boy fell to the ground and she watched him for a second, and had to struggle not to apologize or coddle him as she saw fear mix with the sadness that had been in his eyes. She kept a straight face. She did not bend. She remained stoic and solid as cold flint and gestured with a flick of her muzzle that he was to lead the way home. "Go. We'll talk later." She said, her voice harsh from the emotion she struggled to contain. She didn't want to say anything else, and instead followed her son all the way back to their mountain home in silence.

Mercy stood still under his mother's frustrated stare and didn't move as she came toward him again, angling around him slightly. For some reason, he lifted his head a bit, expecting for something much softer- he wanted for her to cuddle her, to tell him it'd be alright, that he wasn't a horribly bad boy and that she loved him. He wanted her to forgive him for what he'd done, to take him into her arms and cradle him as he cried his frustrations out. He wanted her to tell him again, but tenderly, that she was his mother and he was her son- because he very much wanted it to be true. But what came next nearly winded the boy.

He fell over sideways as his mother gave him a sound smack on his rump. A small cry escaped his lips as the boy tumbled, completely surprised, to the ground. He tucked his tail beneath his legs and had he not already voided his bladder in the water he would have done so just then. For a moment he looked up at her to see if it was real- to see if she'd actually just hit him- and he knew it to be true by the flash in her yellow eyes. Her words came and he scuttled to his feet as quickly as possible, and with his backside still smarting and tail wedged between his legs, the boy began, at a very quick walk, the long and silent course back to the mountain they called home.