Redtail Rise You came home, but do i really care?

Mercury did not pretend to know why Gunnar was so upset with him — he had thought he'd make his intent to find Gyda while everyone else seemed eager to brush her disappearance under the rug very clear. Mercury hadn't waited around, hadn't sought out every wolf in the Bay to say goodbye because he had felt the pressure, the absence of time. The longer he delayed, the higher the chance of something happening to her. She might have been a Viking Princess but Gyda had always been docile. Fragile. “How long have you been gone? Was it before or after Ragnar died? How long do you think the Bay is going to be around with Ragnar gone?” Mercury wasn't saying anything against Thistle's ability to lead but he had always thought she hadn't wanted it. Ragnar had been the Bay's life blood, and without him he did not feel confident they would stand the blow of losing their Patriarch. Perhaps they would prove him wrong, but he held his doubts. The dark skylark kept it to himself, of course, these were not things he was so ready to share with his sensitive brother. “Nerian had bewitched Gyda, led her astray; and I left without telling everyone and their mother goodbye because I was afraid the longer I waited the more chance I would find only a corpse.” He didn't feel that he owed Gunnar any sort of explanation, especially when Gunnar was throwing the fact that he had said goodbye to everyone in his face. As if that made him high and mighty. “Since no one else seemed concerned about Gyda.” Mercury hadn't seen Thistle or Ragnar, or even Gunnar himself jump up in fright and worry about the girl.

“Don't you think it was selfish of you to leave mother with her babes? Was it before or after Ragnar had died?” Why couldn't Gunnar see that he was just like Mercury? To Mercury there was no difference, whether Gunnar said goodbye or not. Of course Thistle wouldn't have said anything. She wasn't the type of wolf to guilt Gunnar into staying even if she had really wanted Gunnar to stick around and help. Gunnar was a fool if he did not think that the Bay could have used his help. “Would she have ever told me if I hadn't asked? No. She wouldn't have. She would have had us believe he was our father,” Mercury bit down harshly upon his tongue to keep the rest of his words at bay. “I met our father, Gunnar. Our real father, Crete. He's not this evil villain that everyone would have us believe.” Of course, Mercury could say that because he'd spent time with Crete and the rest of the DiSarinno's, and had felt welcomed by them. Then again, Mercury had always been more of Crete (and as they would tell him, Aether) than he'd been Thistle, which was perhaps why he felt this way. Maybe Gunnar would have a different opinion if he'd met Crete.

“Maybe, but Crete didn't know. He didn't know about us. I'm not taking sides here, Gunnar, I'm just trying to lay it out on the table. Crete isn't perfect, but neither was Ragnar and you can't deny it. He wasn't a martyr.” Despite that his death might have made a martyr out of him. Calling Ragnar a better man was a stretch, and Gunnar had to know that. There was nothing good about the Viking, it was their nature, and Ragnar had always been adamant about it, not to be humble but honest. Mercury wasn't entirely surprised to hear that they had half siblings, but he did not know what to say. “They are Ragnarssons and daughter's; and mother is strong. They will survive.” He was confident of this, at the very least. He was not sure if the Bay could survive it, but he knew that his mother and half siblings would. 

“I don't want to fight with you, Gunnar,” Mercury admitted with a heavy sigh. In truth, he was exhausted. Exhausted from his travels, from all the anger and bitterness. He wanted to put it behind him. “If I hurt your feelings by leaving to search for Gyda by not saying goodbye I am sorry. That was never my intent. I worried for Gyda, and I know that out of the two of you it is her that needs my protection the most.” Physically speaking, Gunnar was stronger than Mercury. Broad to Mercury's sylphlike form. Bulk against Mercury's wiry muscles. Gunnar was brawn to Mercury's brains (not that Gunnar wasn't smart, because he was); and then there was Gyda all femme softness, dainty and fragile beauty. She had needed Mercury, and he had done what he felt he had too. Whether Gunnar agreed with him or not was entirely up to him and out of the dark skylark's paws.