Caelum stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor, his towering presence commanding the room. His expression was unyielding, and his tone was as sharp as the edge of a blade. "Listen, Jolthar," he said, voice firm, "I can't undo what's been done. And frankly, I believe a man should deal with his own traumas. Sitting here and whining will do nothing to fix the past or calm your anger."
Jolthar's brows furrowed in response, his tone icy as he shot back, "Who said I was whining? I'm not. I'm asking you—what right do you have to talk about me, to ask of me?"
Caelum's eyes narrowed, his posture growing more rigid. "Jolthar, just because we're listening to your tantrums doesn't mean you can speak so rudely. Don't think for a second that I'll let you off easy. The clan comes first, and family comes second."
Jolthar's voice dripped with venom as he replied, "Which I'm apparently not a part of."
