Dragoncrest Cliffs oh nostalgia, i don't need you anymore

Oddly enough, Tux’s veritable side-eye makes Silkie feel…better? It’s as though being judged and subsequently being forgiven is one step toward healing. Self-flagellation only goes so far, especially when everyone’s been so goddamn nice to him since Mallaidh brought him home. “Enough is an illusion,” he murmurs quietly. “We have to be better — we have to be Drakru, and better than them.” He pushes to all fours and turns to face his brother, his expression solemn and his eyes troubled. The emotions that roil through him — he attributes them to his inferior, impetuous Redhawk blood, but he’s still too young to really keep them from spilling over. “Redhawks run, but Drakru stay.”

A quaver at the end of his sentence betrays just how close he is to the edge of his composure, but this time he doesn’t back away or push Tux away. “We are kru,” he says, testing the waters, meeting his brother’s eyes with a fair amount of trepidation. Will his darker sibling turn him away? “We are brothers.”