Ah, so he did know the myth. That still didn't really explain his reaction. What was he so distraught about, then? So he'd been dreaming about a story his mom had probably told him. It wasn't like any of it was actually real.

You don't have to freak out about it, she said, by way of assurance. She took another step toward him, her brow raised and her neck craned to try and peer over his shoulder, but he kept his back staunchly toward her. They're just stories. The world isn't actually going to end. Not for a really long time, at least, she added, quietly, under her breath. She didn't need to send some poor kid into a doom spiral over the inevitable heat-death of the universe just yet.

He snapped at her and she finally pulled short, ears back, a little deflated.

She didn't feel good. Her head hurt, her stomach hurt, her body hurt. She'd thought she'd finally found someone she could relate to, someone like her, and he was walking away. Angrily? Distraught? She didn't know, couldn't see his face. She probably wouldn't have been able to tell even if she could.

Okay, was all she offered softly back, her paws rooted firmly in the snow as she watched him storm off.