Although Phoenix didn't like how Niamh had treated Colt — that is, if she'd even heard about it, because that thread still isn't finished — she found that she cared very little about it.  She'd grown up a little.  Colt and Niamh were both adults, and sometimes people said hurtful things to one another.  She wasn't going to fault Niamh for being a wolf, even if she didn't like that it had to be her brother who'd gotten the short end of the stick.

Hey, she says, softer than usual.  Are you — are you doing okay?  She's wary, and she feels she has every reason to be.  But months had passed since her last drag-out with Niamh, and the least she can do is be compassionate in the face of everything she's about to dump on her.

And then there it was, the cold indifference.  She'd been hopeful that by approaching calmly and with compassion that it would help soften the blow, but already Niamh is launching into how she won't be accepted back in (which is totally what Fire hears it as).

It seems like Niamh realizes it, too.  She amends her statement.  Her brow furrows — Niamh, not a leader anymore?  She never would've stepped down, at least not the Niamh that Phoenix remembers, and she doesn't sound too happy about it.  I'm sorry, she says without thinking, and then she clears her throat as she swipes a paw across the ground.  No, that's not it.  I don't think I'm going to be sticking around.  I appreciate everything that you guys did I just — it didn't matter.

No, I'm here about Bruges.

Maybe in a different world they could've been friends, and commiserated about how each of them thought of Quixote as kind of an asshole.  Just like Niamh, he made her feel stupid, he talked down to her, and he treated her like a child.  If there were any humor in this situation, it would be that the irony was lost on both of them.  They had both been kind of immature, hadn't they?

Anyway — I mean, her voice falls flat.  It's not her place to cry here.  She had barely known him, though in some weird way she felt like he'd had a bigger piece of her than anyone else had.  Other than her relatives, as far as she knew, he was the only one that had even come looking for her.  But nothing like that could amount to a brother.  What would she do if it had been Colt?  Niamh, I watched him die.  

It would've been more poetic if he'd lost his life to a Blackfeather, but it had all come down to chance.  To nothing.  I couldn't save him.  He wanted me to tell you — tell you he really did care.  I don't know what that means.  I'm sorry.

This is what she'd spent all those weeks preparing for.  She'd solidified her feelings into something impenetrable, so that when Niamh crumbled she'd be able to handle it gracefully.  The golden girl was incredulous, and Phoenix took a step back.  He told me he came looking for me, she says as clear as she can manage, but it wasn't Blackfeather, it was a panther.  And then that was that.  That's just how life was, sometimes, and she found she hated it more often than she enjoyed being a part of it.  

And it was weird, because she thought as soon as she made it to the Plateau she'd think about seeing Raven again and it'd all be okay, or she'd end up bitching out and staying here.  But it was this moment that solidified it for her.  There just truly was nothing for her here.  Colt had picked up and moved on.  He'd left Niamh.  He survived.

So she could survive without Raven, or the idea of Raven.  Whichever one she'd fooled herself into being more in love with.

The only thing I could get out of him was to find you.  She could only imagine that Niamh and Bruges had the same kind of thing she had with Colt.  And fuck, she was so sorry.  But there was nothing she could do.  Niamh wouldn't want her in this instance, this girl who she'd fought with all the time.  She'd want a real friend.  A good friend.  Something more than she could be.  To anyone.

I'm sorry.