Liffey's mind was spinning as she and
@Screech moved away from the rest of the group. Somewhere behind them, Redshank was being herded away and her mate was stewing in what she could only assume was a torrent of self-depricating thoughts. She had seen in his eyes and heard in his tone that he had gotten her point completely, which was a comfort, though she knew there was much for them to resolve still. That, however, could wait. This could not.
"Are you alright?" she asked her brother once they had distanced themselves from the group. Rannoch had told her already of his behavior when he'd arrived, and she had seen with her own eyes now that his relationship with Terance had apparently not improved. She imagined things were far worse now, but she hoped there might be time to salvage this. Liffey didn't want to see him go. She didn't want to lose him again.
Liffey knew her brother would be upset about what had happened, but she had not expected his anger to be directed at her. She tensed as he raged at her, anxiety and hurt swelling in her chest. Had he not heard her? Had he not seen her stop them from doing what they were about to do because she had not wanted them to become what Titmouse was accusing them of being? Had he not heard Rannoch's apology, and his promises? She stared stiffly at him until finally, he relented, and an apology slid from his lips.
"Redshank will be fine as long as he doesn't come back," Liffey told him, hoping to sound more confident than she actually felt at that moment. She paused for a moment, then sighed and broached the rest of his angry stream of consciousness. "And no one has had any kool aid, Tit," she continued, "Tensions are just high. We left Moonspear not long ago, and when we did, there were a lot of hurt feelings, anger, and threats. Our former alpha went as far as to attack me, and I personally wouldn't be surprised if they had vengeance in their heads even now. It's why we ran as far as we did. And it's why we're on the lookout still for any sign of danger to us and to the life we're trying to establish here."
"Redshank trespassed on our territory and threatened their lives. I can't blame them for being as upset by his presence as they were. It doesn't excuse their behavior, but can't you see that their alarm wasn't entirely out of place?" she searched his face, hoping to find understanding, "They went too far and it's not okay. They realize that now. Rannoch said already that he was in the wrong and that he wouldn't let it happen again. I won't let it either." One more pause, and then she added in a smaller voice that was more uncertain, and emotional, "Do you not trust me?"
Her question seemed to disarm him. Liffey felt some guilt for this, but if it kept her brother from his blind rage, then she would forgive herself for the unintended emotional subterfuge. Her head canted slightly as he spoke again and she considered his words. The thought that Titmouse didn't trust Rannoch hurt her just as much as if he'd blamed her, but she could not find it in her to bring up that point. Rannoch currently felt too separate from her and that separation ached like a livid wound, as though he had physically been ripped from her side. She couldn't reconcile the Rannoch that had spoken before the pack just now with the Rannoch that had found her a stargazing perch, or the one that had brought her dinner each night and held her until the morning. The one that had readily given up his place at Moonspear to journey across the Wilds to find her some place she could be happy.
"Rannoch will always care about you, and about Redshank, and I believe everyone he has ever met in his life," she insisted, "It's hard to care for so many, especially when those you care about are at odds with each other. He's trying his best - I know he is. We all make mistakes though, but we forgive each other for them. We're family. That never changes, and we never forget." The part about him moving on, she wasn't sure how to address. She didn't understand where it came from, but she had yet to consider how it must've felt for those left behind at the Vale when they had gone.