Otatso Wetlands You can break me if that's what you want

Just as Miraak could never fully understand all that his sister had done, Xan could not grasp the differences between them. Not just yet, at least. The man had scars where Meldresi hadn’t, and something about him set the siblings apart, but he could not place exactly what it was. That lack of information had, at first, kept him back. Distanced away from the other wolf more so than what was truly necessarily, gaze never to leave his direction. As the seconds ticked by, however, he’d found himself able to move towards the elder, but was still careful to stop far enough away that he’d have some wiggle room if ever he might need to flee. A piece of his mind told him that he didn’t have to, and another that he simply shouldn’t, given the shadow’s relations. It’d taken a reminder of Cicero, and how blood alone could not carry with it trust, to keep himself from treating Miraak as if he were his sister.

Never had he been the sort to talk about himself. He’d boast and shoot out cocky remarks, but to actually speak about himself and what he might have experienced or felt was never done. And yet, when asked a question, he’d not kept himself from answering. “My father took me to the woods with him when he’d returned to it,” the yearling began, able to remember everything, despite his age at the time. It was the sort of memory that just wouldn’t go away, no matter how much time passed. “She gave me a real home. She didn’t let anyone get rid of me,” he’d finished. Even now, the hatred that he’d known Burke to feel towards him was still acknowledged. Whether or not he was still detested mattered little, for the feeling itself remained and that was what matter to him. Had it not been for Meldresi, he couldn’t imagine what his life would have turned out to be like, and it was for that very reason that he wanted to honour her somehow—just as much as when he’d talked to Damien so long ago, too, and had been encouraged to live up to her expectations.