Aningan’s gaze snapped to the other sister as she spoke, struggling to piece together his own comment. “I know she’s not delicate,” he settled for saying. “But… even the strongest wolves need help sometimes. Why can’t I offer my help?” He wondered how much would be different, had help been asked for in the past. Would his own siblings still be with him? Would Caiaphas still have been turned away? He just wanted to help—all he ever wanted to do was help.

“Shouldn’t you be happy, too?” he asked. “Are you happy protecting them?” Was he happy trying to protect Rusalka? He liked to think he was—but moments like this one made him question it. But this conversation had him questioning a lot of different things, too. Especially when she continued on about not wanting to just be friends. What more was there?

“You say I don’t want you but how do you know?” How could she know when he did not? “Maybe I don’t want to be friends, either!” He never actually thought about it; to Aningan, there were friends, family, and strangers. But could there be something more than friends but less than family? Did Ying want to be family? The more she said, the more he thought—and the more confused he made himself, struggling to understand and come to terms with everything.

She love you! Huā threw out, taking him by surprise. What was surprising more than that was the way Ying reacted, and then how her sister fled the scene. If that were the case, then why didn’t she just say so in the beginning! Frustration took hold, realising that all the shouting could have been avoided. But they weren’t done yet!

Ying continued, now mocking him and questioning him all in the same breath. “I don’t know, I—” What was he supposed to say next? “I didn’t mean to not be nice!” How was he playing with her? Whilst she took a step closer, he remained glued down where he stood. Everything was whirling around in his head, confusing him and nearly making him sick. She loved him—but she wanted to be more than friends?

Another question and he felt himself pushed over the edge, grappling for the right answer. “No!” came rushing out. “I don’t want to be friends.” The smile, ever so small, went unseen—all he could see was her oceanic gaze as he sought confirmation that he’d finally said something right.

What else was there? Panic followed as he desperately searched through his mind. Strangers, friends, family. Strangers, friends, family. On repeat, in his head, echoing relentlessly. “Then… then—” What? “Then we will be like Rosalyn and Erzulie!” They were family, he’d determined long ago, but there was always something else there. Something he didn’t have a name for. The concepts of dating and mateship were lost on him entirely—Aningan didn’t know jack shit about any of that sort of stuff.

Ying agreed and the male felt relieved at last—he said something right this time. Did that mean their argument was over? He sure hoped so; he hated arguing with her, or anyone in Rusalka, for that matter. But then she closed what space remained between them and had had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, which was soon shooed away by the delivery of a boop to his snout.

Before he could ask, Ying was already leaving. Rather than staring after her, as he tended to do in the past, Aningan took off in the opposite direction—he had to find Rosalyn or Erzulie and quick. He had so many questions.