Felih flinches, but doesn't back away, ears low as he takes the berating, the anger, and hears the way Francel's voice finally begins to crack and raise, the emotion springing loose after, perhaps, years of silence.

"I merely wanted your truth," he says quietly afterwards, ears pinned back. "I wanted you to- be honest. You put on such a fine mask- after all, you have such burdens, such hopes and weights on you, you must present a strong face." Felih knows this feeling well. "It pained me, seeing you like that. In the wake of everything- it seems... as if you were not allowed to mourn fully." Francel had as much right as Felih, if not more, to mourn and scream and curse the gods and all who conspired to bring about Haurchefant's death.

Felih had gotten to tear Zephirin's heart out with his own claws, but it was a hollow victory. Zephirin's heart would not bring his mate back.

It's the final words that render him stunned and speechless, fur bristling in shock, heart clenching in his chest.

Oh.

Gods... how could I be so blind?

Haurchefant's dearest, closest friend...

His hands tremble.

Well, I suppose neither of us got what we wanted then, did we?

"What does it matter now, when he is lost to us both?" he says, voice breaking, agony on his face as tears finally spill over.