Shirisha sat completely still, tears dripping off her face and falling among the frigid balls of hail. She tried to steady her psyche and emotions, for this was the kind of person Shirisha was. She absorbed the emotions of others, to feel them as others do, and here she felt only the deepest kind of pain, a kind she never knew existed. Broken words came from her mouth.

"Everyone in the village still believes you simply separated in the night. Why keep this from them?"

Sang looked more in control now, having emptied the pit that had been festering within his mind for years. A deep rot that skewed the way he viewed the world.

"Shame in myself, not wishing to give them a reason to fear their own mountain, perhaps."

He was quiet again, still realizing the truth of himself. Shirisha's memory flashed back to the bagha that Sang fought in front of her, and the old scars behind its ear.

"The Bagha you saved me from... was it the same?"

"Yes."

Shirisha felt shaken once more, shuddering from the realization. "Do you feel hate for it?" she asked.

Sang looked conflicted, hesitating before he spoke. "The mind of an animal is simple. It kills, it consumes, and it defends. It could have been avoided, and that is all. Just the will of a foolish child and the compliance of a loving father."

Sang took a long breath, and continued his story over Shirisha's sorrowful silence.

"From that day I placed a will in my heart that I would do everything I could to gain strength, so that I would never be too weak to accomplish something, that I would never fail, and bring the greatest prosperity the mountain had yet seen to honor my father.

"I would run through the most treacherous paths of the forest until I could run no more. I would climb trees with only my arms or legs until they burned like wildfire. I would scrape my own skin across the rough bark of trees until it bled to harden it. I would shoot at a single tree for entire days until my fingers blistered. I perfected every part of hunting, precision in both the kill and everything that leads to it. My mother died of an illness just two years after while I was away for a time doing these things. I grieved, but I took it only as a sign to keep moving forward, an even greater reason to pursue this destiny.

"When I was of age to join the hunters, I did so immediately. It was not long after I proved myself the best of them. When I took charge as their leader, I worked sleeplessly, fulfilling what I was destined to do. It was strenuous, but seeing the success unfold around us, I was driven even further. Then worries arose, and hunters left. Back then I thought them weak, those who were unable to push themselves further. When it dawned on me after what I had done, shame took me, and I fled.

I needed to redeem myself, and so I dreamt greater. In my time walking alone on the other mountain, I thought of Abhinatha's power. If its brief passing us gave us the growth of springtime, what would happen if it was trapped here for days, weeks? I doubt we could even imagine. So I began my labor, rerouting the water that came from the springs through pathways and building dams to contain them along the face of the mountain. All with my own two hands. I prepared, spending every minute I was awake building, to ensure it would not be a failure, humiliation to my name. But it was far too much, and the outcome instead was worse than anything I had imagined. I had tried to atone, and instead dragged myself beyond redemption. I wandered, planning never to return, when I heard the bagha's growl. At first I felt fear, but then my body acted on impulse, knowing I had a chance to save a life instead of take one."

He locked eyes with her, tears emerging from them.

"When Abhiral had his arrow pointed to my head, I was not afraid nor did I move, because I was ready to die. I was utterly deserving of it. But you gave me a chance despite everything, and so I put everything I had towards our success. And now I almost lost it all, with my same foolish strength and pride that left no room for wisdom. If not for you, it would have claimed my very life."

Shirisha absorbed all of it as the truth spilled out of him. Though she had never witnessed anything like this before, a familiar feeling came over her.

It was the feeling she had when a child she looked after made a simple mistake, maybe tearing down a piece of a hut while playing or dropping a piece of cooked food in the dirt. The feeling she had when she saw one of them fretting over what they did, and she comforted them. So she did just that.

She leaned forward and put her hand on his, and warmth bled into her voice as he stared into his eyes.

"Do you not see that you saved my life just the same he saved yours on that night? You have suffered, Sang, and have made horrid mistakes. But those tragedies are not all that define you. You never meant ill upon anyone, and here you are giving everything you have to make it right, even through all that has befallen you. That is why you must stay alive. Nobody deserves to die from slaughter by their own kin, no matter what they did. We will make things right."

Sang had no words, and any trace of his typical guarded resolve was gone. His anger had since disintegrated, and all that remained was pain. In the small muddy pit below the upturned roots and the storm that faltered only slightly, they embraced.