I've heard

If I were tougher

Then maybe I'd make it alive

I got a tender side

I'll need a harder shell to survive

When Hunter was ten, he started researching tear ducts in the castle library.

He wanted to know if removing them would ensure that he never cried again. He was tired of disgracing himself in front of the emperor. Ten was too old to be crying over the training courses, and way too old for hugs. Hugs were for babies. (So why did he want one?)

Uncle Belos was 'up to here' with the behavior. Hunter didn't know where exactly here was, but Uncle's tone warned him not to ask. He had even threatened to send Hunter away if he could not get it together.

He didn't want to be sent away! He wanted to be Golden Guard, to stay by his uncle's side and protect him.

He hadn't been in the world outside the castle often enough to even clearly picture the street. His imagination colored in the buildings and people there based on books he had read. He didn't want to live there. He wanted to live here.

Here was a passage about tear ducts. Hunter sounded out the words, making his way painfully slowly down the paragraph. Tear ducts were what allowed him to cry, yes.

Turns out eye-watering was also important for cleaning out debris and foreign matter. And keeping the eyes wet instead of dry. Like on the mountain. He wiggled his toes in his shoes, still covered in bandages, remembering how the puddles of blood had formed in his boots but it wasn't that that had made tears stream down his face. It was the biting cold wind that whipped the mask off his face and stung his eyes.

He didn't want dry eyes. Maybe he shouldn't be removing those ducts then.

He would just have to learn to control his emotions like his uncle said. Uncle Belos had been right, as always.

But if seeing is believing

I don't know I've seen a thing grow

Without an open coat

Not without softness showing

Hunter is sixteen (at least he's pretty sure he turned sixteen) when the first seed he ever planted sprouts.

At first, he wasn't sure that's what it was. He thought maybe the seed had floated back to the top and felt defeated. But the next morning, he spotted a spindly green sprout underneath, somehow lifting the seed. He brought it to Willow. She beamed, clapping her hands.

"You're growing a human realm apple!"

"Really?"

"Yes! Look, the seed split, and it put down roots. Now it's growing up, and the seed stays on as a sort of protective covering for a while."

"Oh..." Hunter took a closer look. He had no idea that was how it worked.

"Don't try to take the seed part off before it's ready. It falls off on its own."

When it did fall off, he was distressed. He brought it back to Willow.

"It's so soft. Is there something wrong?"

"Hunter, it's perfectly fine. That's just how they are. It will get bigger and stronger."

Hunter wasn't convinced. "How can it ever be a tree if it's so... soft right now? If someone wanted to squash it, that would be it."

"No one is going to do that." Willow cupped her hands around his. Hunter stood very still, staring at the little sprout that they now both held. "They're stronger than they look, they can survive the elements. And no one is out to get it."

She reached out and cupped the side of his face. Her fingers brushed the notch in his ear. "The tree will grow up just fine. Trust me. Most things need to be soft for a while."

It didn't feel like they were talking about the seed anymore, not all the way.

"Okay. I'll still make sure nothing happens to it."

"I know you will. You're kind."

Later, he takes a shower in lukewarm water and comes back to the living room with his hair damp and spiky. He joins Willow on the couch to watch a human sitcom with her, and she runs her finger through his hair. He lets himself be eased into lying down, his head resting on her leg. She felt a cool puff of air on her knee whenever something happened on screen that was funny. That was the only thing that betrayed the fact that he enjoyed the show.

Willow's fingers grazed a spot behind his ear- the one with the notch in it that he usually doesn't like for people to touch- and suddenly his eyes felt heavy. He let himself start to drift off, the noise from the TV and the noise from the kitchen blending and softening into sweet nothingness.