Shadowwyn Moor moulin rouge

Eshe whipped around to block a path of exit, and Bhreac turned to face her, whining a bit. She wasn't planning on leaving. She didn't want to fight — she wanted to enjoy having her sister back, she wanted to start learning how to live as a family of two rather than two of many, but it was like standing on the opposite side of a wide, rushing river from Eshe; there was too much between them to cross without first constructing a bridge.

What do you want me to do? 

Bhreac didn't have an answer. She just wanted things to go back to how they used to be, but there was no chance of that. She wanted for forgive Eshe, who was no more responsible for anything that happened than Bhreac herself was, but then she was also certain they both blamed themselves regardless. It was hard not to. Everything felt hard and fraught between them, everything sharp and jagged and rubbed raw. She supposed it was equally up to her to sand the hard edges, and so she sighed, stepping toward Eshe, and butting her snout against her sister's softly.

"Just don't leave me either, okay?" Bhreac said.