Firefly Ravine paeta

Assuming the Chusbus will not stop at this station, so continuing on. ;o;

“But Ceallach,” Eirlys whined, nipping affectionately at his chin as he urged her physically to stay down, “what if — ” She hushed immediately as he hissed for quiet, using his oversized ears to better hear the commotion in the distance; and although the sound of footsteps initially grew louder as Chusi moved away from the claimed territory, it died out into silence again. It became apparent to Eirlys in that moment that Chusi was not following her but instead was breaking new ground to go somewhere else, and that stung. The cocoa-dusted snowdrop had left a very obvious trail — the sour scent of fear mixed with the metallic tang of blood — and Chusi hadn’t even come to check on her. It was a childish way of thinking, that she was worthy of being checked on even though she had made a dreadful blunder by trespassing in the first place, but Eirlys was a child and Chusi was her big sister.

Was.

Eirlys disliked the grim tone of Ceallach’s voice, but more than that, she disliked the overwhelming feeling of rejection. All these months she’d made excuses for Chusi in the back of her mind when her blatant refusal to come home [despite being in a neighboring territory!] had driven papa to madness and Ceallach to rage. Now, though, she was given little choice but to see things for what they were: Chusi didn’t love her siblings anymore. Maybe she hadn’t for a long time. “I don’t know about that,” she said softly, because it wasn’t like she wanted her isosisko to be sad. “It was me; I got her in trouble when I trespassed. Do you…do you think I could make things right?” She knew she’d gotten off easy; äiti had practically dismembered the last trespasser to Teaghlaigh.

Wait a minute — why was she trying to make things right? Maybe Ceallach was right. Maybe it was time for Chusi to finally start accepting responsibility for her actions. She still didn’t even know äiti was dead — but Eirlys was beginning to believe that it didn’t matter anymore. Though she stayed where Ceallach had indicated, sucking in a hissing breath as he began to clean the weeping wound on her hind leg, “No. You’re right, Ceallach,” Eirlys said, deadly quiet. “She made her choice. She chose not to come home; she chose not to visit even when she could have thrown a fuckin’ rock into our territory from where she stood; and now, just now, just — ” she began to sputter, feeling a measure of his fury seep into her bones, “ — now she’s chosen a third time. Not like it’s hard to figure out where I am, and there she goes, because fuck Ceallach, fuck Eirlys, why bother, right?” The angrier she let herself get, the more she sounded like their father — and she tried so hard to keep her emotions from breaking free this way, but something about this felt so freeing.

“No, Ceallach,” she growl-whined with an asthmatic wheeze. “This time it’s us — this time it’s us telling her to fuck off.”