From his resting bed, Hydra followed the trail of Kukutux. Beyond herself, it was she who was most with her once-brother as caretaker. She ought to know of what had occured, and that her watch over him had ended. Whether or not Kukutux wished to care for him beyond her reach she would leave to the woman with a kind heart, but Hydra could dwell no longer on he who cared nothing for either of their efforts. He was loyal to none but for himself, as ever; as that was the case, he would live the life of a lone wolf in full.
And yet Hydra had yet to strip the scent of him from her. She would, but it was the last traces of him she had, and it was of days far better than this Hydra thought of as she moved.
Where had she gone wrong? Was
she the fool?
No—
no.
How many times had Revui broken her trust? Gone when she had needed him most? And how many times had she been there, each time he had needed her? Not with words, which were wind, but with action? His words replayed within her mind, and Hydra forged ahead with a heavy heart. How could she remove this thorn from her side? He was gone, but why was it she could still feel him there?
Sia will probably bounce when Kukumama gets here, but I wanted to sneak this in!
When she heard approaching footsteps, the raindrop's ears perked up. She had picked a flower earlier that day with the intention of delivering it to Hydra, so it was rather convenient when her aunt approached. Scrambling (carefully!) to her feet, Sialuk grabbed the flower and held it, presenting it to her aunt.
I am sorry for being so cruel to you,
she said after laying it at Hydra's feet.
I was scared and hurt, and I really did not mean those things.
She let her gaze remain on the flower, resisting the urge to sneak a peek at her aunt's reaction.
Sialuk came to her first, and Hydra regarded her initially with cool indifference. The matriarch still did not appreciate the girls behavior, though understood on some level that Sialuk was still just that: a young girl. Even still, Hydra had expected more from her niece. It was only when the girl dropped the flower to her feet and spoke that the matriarch allowed herself to soften a measure. While still disappointed, she loved her niece. It was a selfish hurt she endured, and even for family such things were difficult for her to look beyond.
And yet, having been so wounded by Revui she could not fathom letting resentment fester for something truly so trivial. Sialuk was young enough for the matriarch to decide on forgiveness this time, electing to believe that Sialuk meant it. I trust you will not do it again,
she hummed, softening further. Not wanting to jostle the girl, Hydra lowered her head to sniff at the flower instead of her typical brand of physicality, asking, do you know the name of this one...?
before her gaze turned to the now approaching Kukutux.
Lifting her head and moving to greet her, Hydra brushed against the wife of her brother and chuffed lowly. For now she said nothing else, looking over her shoulder expectantly toward Sialuk so that she would understand that this was a conversation she desired to have with her mother alone.
The delicate petals on the flower would not last long, but the properties that made the plant useful would remain, so long as it was left to dry. With the way her aunt spoke, it made Sialuk feel like she was on ice just as thin as those petals that lay on the ground. She swallowed, but at least ajaukuluk would not punish her for her misstep. It would be the last one from the raindrop, that much she knew.
Sahmikaada,
she answered when prompted. Soon, anaa was there, and when she looked back to Hydra, she knew that this was meant to be a private conversation. Keep it dry, and if you get an upset stomach, it will make it better.
There were a multitude of other uses for the plant, but that was one of the easiest ones she could think of off the top of her head.
The girl slipped past her mother then, still extra careful about putting too much pressure on her injured food. She was planning to go find some animals to speak to so she could report back to the witch and maybe get her own witch powers.
Hydra noted what the girl had told her, and would relay it in time to
@Lyra as well. Likely her sister already knew as much, but it never hurt to add to their mental inventory. Watching the girl go, her eyes lingered upon her even as Kukutux spoke. One ear turned toward the woman to indicate she had heard the words, and then the matriarch looked to her.
She was not sure Kukutux would think so for very long.
No,
she answered. Her own appetite had suffered for the recent event, but she had been well fed before then. Not hungry enough to accept the offer then, and thinking it would better serve their children or else someone hungrier, she simply said,
though I thank you. I wanted to speak with you, about my brother,
she began. A knot in her throat came unbidden, though she tried to swallow it.
When I spoke with him, he expressed he was loyal to himself. Trusted only himself. The smell of fever was gone, and I know he meant those words. I had hoped...
For foolish things.
Loyalty and trust be damned, though she desired both from him—she had hoped that he would look at her as he once had when he was very young. A look that, as she had interpreted it, showed her the depth of him. Vast and endless, truly, and her there with him in that veldtlike place. She need not be on a pedestal, she just simply was pleased to see herself there at what she felt was the forefront. Guardian of it, of him. She only ever wanted to keep him safe, and to watch him grow.
Hydra loved that damnable boy, even though she sought to strip the feeling from her heart as she stood here before Kukutux, silent still, wondering throughout thes awful aches:
Why did he not love her? Why must he refuse her?
Catching her breath, Hydra blinked and continued on,
you were with him, when he woke. You saved him,
she breathed,
and I thank you for doing what you did. Was he... how was he, with you?
She asked, voice soft while her eyes searched. As cold? As unforgiving?
Bitter.
Kukutux had not deserved that.
Hydra wondered if she herself did, and considered...
No. Not from Revui. Love him though she did, again and again Hydra had sought to prepare him for his return home and again and again he had spurned her. Arcturus, too. If any deserved to be bitter, it was her darker brother, and with some mirth Hydra hummed, I will never do right by the two of them,
realizing belatedly the way in which she referred to the silver man she sought to remove from her heart and soul. Arcturus, too, spoken of unwittingly, and she looked to Kukutux and elaborated: Save one, then ostracize the other by doing so—but become a murderer should I not,
she remembered how Arcturus had come to her that day with the song of a challenge upon his lips.
Killer, savior—damned, in their minds, no matter what she did.
Even now, I consider them both in all that I do. How would Arcturus feel, to know I again would provide my protection to the brother that challenged him? And Revui...
she shook her head, unable to articulate, eyes turning to look to the pines nearby, inspecting the dancing shadows.
She licked her chops.
How to make it stop? It had been so easy, with Korei Julia.
She had sons and daughters to think of. Nieces and a nephew. A brother that would not leave her, and sisters who ever stood by her side. Her gaze fell to Kukutux, recognizing her as one of them. A woman who to her had already become a fixture of this place. The family that remained that was Moonspear, and the Glen. They counted on her, and her strength. Her wisdom to do the right thing, even when it was difficult.
The Ostrega knew she must stop this considering. Knew she must at last move on. Revui's return, and his turning his back upon her, caused her to understand that some things would not change—
The echo of her brothers voice, flat and cold: "you're insane."
Oh, Arcturus. He had not been wrong, had he?
I must believe what he has always shown me. Understand that he has no wish to be here,
and no desire to be a part of their family any longer. His choice, his—she had asked for him to, but he had known already that he would depart just as she did, deep in her bones. The singular thing she could count on Revui to do was leave. It was not if, it was when. That was the only thing Hydra could trust with any real certainty when it came to him. It was more difficult to think, that he does not love me as I love him, and yet she did; her voice was not firm for it, as she breathed out: I cannot enable the behavior any more. Perhaps it is me who is keeping him from his full potential for continuing to believe in him, believe that somehow he has changed to be able to consider more than simply himself, without him showing me such is true,
she wondered at that, looking her sister over as though seeking any indication that this might be so.
Was she to blame?
Waste—she blinked at Kukutux, listening, realizing...
Blinking again as she heard Revui's predictions, she tried to determine the way in which she felt to hear these things said.
Her brothers, the both of them, did not care to know her at all.
You wasted nothing,
she answered, softer still. Understanding dawned upon her, and Hydra felt the sting of winters bite come in her next inhale. Revui knew well what his answer meant. Loyalty and trust, only for himself. It is the answer of a lone wolf,
she hummed, and we are a pack.
They had treated him as such; family still. Over, and over, and over... he turned his cheek to them.
Put him away? No. She had simply heard him, seen him—recognized at last the gesture he made with those words, the lifting of his finger in the face of all that she and their family had ever done for him. It did not hurt any less, and it shamed her deeply to see it then, so late.