Blacktail Deer Plateau pearls and swine bereft of me

Peregrine didn't know what to think or how to feel when he heard Atticus call for him. He heeded it—it didn't even occur to him to avoid or outright ignore his brother—but as he walked through the wood toward his elder sibling, his insides clenched. Atticus had been sparse so long that it felt like the relationship between them had withered away into nothing. Peregrine missed his "bro" but he was also coming into a righteous anger at Atticus too, for holding all of this over his head and for so long. It'd left scars on his heart.

Suddenly, they were face-to-face. "Atti," Peregrine said uncertainly. He wanted to say, I miss you. It was true enough. Instead, he found himself asking, "Have you finally decided I'm not a tyrannical asshole after all?" They were bitter words but they were spoken softly, not angrily. Seeking and holding his brother's icy gaze, he added, "It was like all those years where, you know, we were thick as thieves—suddenly, they didn't count for jack shit. I understood, to some extent, but I'd be a liar if I told you that didn't hurt me, Atti. It hurt me badly."

A moment later, Peregrine sank to his haunches with a resigned sigh. He still couldn't sort through his feelings. Something else occurred to him, though, and he looked up almost with a start and started to say something. He stopped, realizing these words could change everything, then decided to say them anyway. "I don't know if you've heard the news yet: Tyrannus is dead. Perseus and Echo killed him and took over the pack. You can go home now if you want." He thought he detected spite in his own voice but his dusky blue-green eyes were nothing but apprehensive and melancholic.