Shamgar just laid there. He didn't want to move, he was too upset, too in awe and shack of what had taken place the previous day. The charred ruins he lay in was once his home, his house. His fur and feathers were getting covered in soot; not like he cared, though. The townspeople looked at him suspicion, and even blamed the events of the previous day on him and his 'crazy ideas'.
He wasn't bothered by them, though. He'd just lost his only family, his mother, to a raging inferno, and he could only stand and watch. He didn't even rush in. He was a coward, and he knew it. His tears came not in mourning for his mother; she was in paradise, happy and free of troubles. His tears came from his lack of action, his failure to protect his only family, his own inability to face possible death to save a loved one. He just sat there, in his burned, charred house, his wings hiding his face in shame, crying his tormented heart out....