"Imagining doesn't mean you'll ever understand." Galad crossed his arms. His old teacher used to say that it was like trying to explain what salt tasted like to someone who had never had it.
Jack coming around the desk stopped Galad's pacing and he watched the banshee warily. Crossed arms tightening on his torso, Galad was tense when Mr. Cavanaugh squeezed his shoulder. He looked away with no desire for the compassion his teacher offered. It didn't do anything to fix anything.
As Mr. Cavanaugh spoke and offered to be a mediator, Galad began shaking his head. "No." He said firmly. "I've tried talking to him. He made his position clear. I'm done. He can go pursue all his wildest dreams to his heart's content. I'll find my way without him."