Morningside Cuesta sat my back to your stars and breathed in your sighs

dragging her paws she was, when their father called for them. anger, and the beginnings of an ugly hatred withered in her gut- born of her own stubborn independence and the fact that Sunny thought he ought to care for her- a noble gesture, really, but lost on her. she hated feeling lesser, lesser than her own brother. she arrived first, seating herself awkwardly before her father, shifting slightly in the manner of a child who knew they were in for a talking too.

she was silent, watching her father subduedly and waiting for Sunny to catch up.