He'd been laying low since his encounter with Finley, partly through his own choice and also because his one ally (Niamh) had been disinterested in him following the sudden encounter. If this was what it felt like to be back among his family, Screech wondered if he'd be better off cutting ties and chasing after his friend Redshank - the other boy seemed to have a good idea when he'd booked it for the coast. Alas, Screech wasn't ready to do that. He didn't want to lose, and most of all, he was adamant that the Blackthorn kids (plus his own sister) didn't win, in the sense that they'd be driving him out. This was his plateau and one day they'd see that.

But he was tired of hiding. Most of all, he was tired of being treated like a lesser being because of events outside of his own control; he wanted to have his say, speak his piece, and be given the chance the thought he deserved. The fact that his stepmom more or less had given up on him had been a sharp blow to his ego, one that he wouldn't let slide even if he had wanted to. Perhaps it had been the final nail in the coffin of his relationship with the Blackthorns — they had never been family, he told himself as he paced the plateau and followed the curve of the lake — so it wasn't Finley's ear he wanted.

It was @Raven that he sought out. Despite the way he felt about her (halfway between skin shiverring denial about what had happened and a deep, greedy need for a mother which was weirdly oedipal in its own right), Screech needed to see her and to clear the air. They could talk, or they could sit in awkward silence, but he needed to be there - so he was hunting for her scent and found a path, but as soon as he did the boy's pace slowed to a nervous crawl.

This was awful. This was worse than any screaming match with Sorina; in fact, Screech found himself wishing for the company of the foul girl rather than Raven right this second. He would rather endure the screeching of ten Sorinas than try and sit peacefully through this burdensome silence.

He was thankful when Raven broke the silence, for all of three seconds.

The boy shifted and adjusted, then shifted around again, clearly uncomfortable but doing his very best to listen and be okay with.. Everything. Then he found himself speaking without thinking - a flurry of words he hadn't asked for began to spill out of his mouth in true Screech fashion, but it felt like someone else was talking: I didn't mean it, it shouldn't have -- I was just trying to understand something, but -- I mean the same thing happened with Sorina too, she said it was bad and I told her it was bad to make her feel bad because it made me feel bad, that she didn't... That... But, you felt bad too and that makes sense, it shouldn't -- we didn't -- it wasn't right, right? Right. It went too far, I always go too far with everything, I -- I -- oh, crap, by now he'd been ranting for a good little bit and wasn't breathing and might've turned a little blue if wolves did that (do they do that??) and things felt like they were heavy again and -- shit was he hyperventilating?

No -- no, he gasped and countered with refusals, denials, finding her apology and blame-taking to be completely wrong in the face of what they'd done together. In his mind, he had been in full control of himself - with her, and with Sorina - and the fact that both women reacted so negatively was because it was wrong. He should've known better. He should've stopped. To hear Raven claim this as something she had done made his gut twist and Screech just shook his head, shutting out anything else she said.

I'm not an idiot. I know everyone thinks I'm this giant fucking moron, and that I've done bad things and I shouldn't be here, but I should have known better than to do -- do that. Whatever that was. I know it was bad and I know it shouldn't have happened and I'm -- I'm so sorry. Somehow he'd gotten up again and was pacing, and unable to look at her as he ranted, and then it was like he realized how loud he was being (heck, the whole pack could've heard him for all he knew!) and he snapped his mouth shut after that. Screech stood there shuddering, wanting to say more but knowing that if anyone found out then -- well -- fuck he didn't know what would happen. But if it got Raven in trouble, if she had to live the way he did (or worse, be thrown from the family because of something he'd done to her), Screech wouldn't be able to handle it.

Clamming up seemed to do the trick; he managed to breathe a little bit, pause and get a handle on some of the thoughts rampaging in his head. It's over, it's done. I understand if you don't -- don't trust me, or think I'm disgusting... Or something. Everyone hates me here, I should just leave anyways. But it wasn't your fault. You're not the problem, I am. Everyone knew that.

Each syllable was like a line of fuse leading straight for a bomb: and as he ranted, he got closer and closer to the inevitable explosion. When he was almost at that limit, she cut in with a comment that didn't immediately register — and then, just like that, the lit fuse was snuffed out. At least, temporarily.

Towhee wasn't the leader anymore.
Towhee couldn't kick him out anymore.
Towhee's opinion of him no longer mattered.

But wait. What the fuck? He blurt in response, the fur of his nape standing on-end as he stopped his pacing and whirled to stare gap-jawed at her. A beat later, You're telling me she moved Finley's newborn kids across the fuckin' wilds, and then stole my home away from me, and then just quit? He should've been happy. Instead, he was angry.

If you're the Alpha then make everyone leave! Pack up and go back to the Caldera! Get them all out of here so I can live in peace, for fuck's sakes, Raven! Why are you still here? But even as he said this, he knew he'd be heartbroken to see any of them leave - as much as he loathed losing the plateau, Screech knew there was nothing he could do about the situation, plus at least this way he was living where he wanted and he had a chance to reconcile with everyone.

Even if that took seven hundred years of Blackthorn pranks, outright lies, and weird situations with siblings.

Raven was right of course, and it would take a little bit before Screech saw that and understood. He had no idea what it took to be a leader no matter how much he talked big, threw his opinion around, or whatever. Truthfully, he knew deep down he didn't care about the Blackthorn kids; it was just another accusation he could throw at his sister, but soon enough Raven was shoving it right back at him and he had to shut the heck up and listen. And yeah, she was right.

The boy was huffy but at least now he was quiet. The silence was tense, but at least it was lasting. Screech didn't know what else to say - it had been ages since someone had put him in his place like that, being authoritative and familial all at once. Motherly. Maybe that was all he needed.

Then, finally, he murmured: Why did she choose you? He hadn't meant for it to sound negative or accusatory, but was genuinely curious. It would've made sense for Towhee to back off and leave the leadership to the Blackthorns (and really shit on their parent's legacy), but to choose their sister? She wasn't a warrior or a guardian, but she knew each member of the pack and was knowledgable in other regards - maybe that's what they'd needed, then. A big shift. The more he thought about it, the less inclined he was to hear Raven's answer. He felt a weak smile tug at the corners of his mouth and he added, I'm glad. Maybe things will change now - if you guys stay, maybe they'll stop hating me because you could tell them not to.

Towhee was Beta? Things changed so fast - he was kinda happy to hear that. At the same time there were gears turning in his mind, gears which should have ground to a halt when his big sister mentioned some guy named Quixote but they didn't. A thought had pierced his rage and now seemed to take up everything - and while Screech would have voiced his possessive, defensive, familial dislike that Raven was with some weird not-Redhawk guy, the first thing he said was:

Finley was replaced? And Elwood? He sounded neutral as he asked this rhetorical question, and then those gears went click!

He faced his sister now with determination burning inside of himself, that raging fire of his anger transformed. Make me beta too, he half-suggested-half-demanded, I can do everything Towhee can do. I'll always back your play no matter what - and you know that'll be good, because my friends won't follow just anyone. I can keep them in line, and integrate with the pack... and... Its a good idea! Even though it meant working alongside his sister.

Then, suddenly filling with doubt as he tried to plead his case, Screech backpedaled and was overrun by a growing doubt. He tacked on: And if you don't, I can tell everyone what -- what we did. They'll never follow you after that. Screech watched for a reaction like he always did, but there was a steely look to his eyes and a tightness in his clenched jaw which made him look a little too serious. It was a strange threat on the tail of his grand idea - but he wanted this, and wasn't sure how to make it happen.

Plus, heck, this was Screech. He had to say something wrong or it'd be out of character.

The look in her eye was startling (although it should not have been), and reminded him of the way the wolves of Moonspear stared at him - intense and dangerous. Two things that, before now, Screech would have never linked to his passive sister. He knew what he said was crossing an obvious line. As stupid as he seemed, Screech wasn't a total idiot, he was just loud and emotional. Even before she spoke her reply he knew it had been wrong; yet hearing her threaten to kick him out seemed to prove something to the boy - maybe he finally knew his limits.

He wanted to play it off as a casual bluff and for the most part that was easy, he just sighed and broke eye contact with her, shrugging but deferring with the shift of his vision to the dirt like a scolded child (not far off base with that). He murmured, Obviously I'm not serious. Nobody would believe me. But even Screech didn't know what he was capable of. He just wanted to be treated the same as everyone else - and prove he was just as capable as his handicapped sister, if not more so. Clearly the adversity in Towhee's life had strengthened her while the turmoil of Screech's various adventures had the opposite effect.

Finally he turned to watch her, but couldn't match her gaze, letting his ears stay flat against his head and curling his tail across his paws. I... I want to be better. Maybe I can't be, and maybe... Maybe I should just give up and fuck off. I don't belong -- anywhere He didn't expect her to commiserate with him or offer any comfort. This time he was speaking plainly, from the heart, and making it clear that he was just a fucked up kid with nowhere to go. What was he supposed to do? Work hard and earn the trust of people he didn't care about? Stick around a family that still thought he was a living dumpster fire of a person? But he was quiet now, his eyes glistening, and looked at her as if for a final verdict.

He heard her, but he also didn't. Screech was falling in to an emotional pit within himself and only gave small shrugs or grunts when he was expected to respond. It bothered him to no end that his sister was so well respected and that he had been thrown under the proverbial bus over and over, but then he wasn't really helping the situation either. His behavior made him one of the worst of the worst, and he couldn't hear Raven's urging (that he belonged) without wanting to roll his eyes and call her a dumbass; this time he kept himself in check, but there was a flash of something in his eyes as he blinked away the gathering tears before they fell, and then he was stagnant. Emotionally blank.

Whatever, he finally murmured when he could talk clearly, I know I don't deserve it. I know I'm just a piece of shit, and -- Whatever. He was shaking his head as he paced, and finally just took off, before Raven could do anything else. He didn't deserve to be consoled for his lot in life, not when he'd partially manufactured it and was to blame. If things were going to change then he would have to change - but the fear was, what if he couldn't?