Sun Mote Copse slow dancer, no answer

they were face to face, but like jarilo, arcturus had never felt a distance so immense between his blood.

his ears pulled back as his brother spoke, noting the way jarilo composed his words was if he were navigating a shark-riddled minefield. careful, too careful -- as if arcturus was fragile or, maybe even unpredictable. he stifled the raw feeling of injustice that welled in his throat, fighting back a torrent of emotions that he had placed on standby this entire month.

if he was to stay polite, he'd have to pretend everything was okay. he'd have to pretend he was overjoyed to see his brother, that things were just fine and he could be plenty crdial thank you very much. but it was hard -- so hard -- and when he spoke he felt he was a thousand miles away observing some ridiculously pompous ceremony held by strange and unintelligible customs.

"i'm doing fine, thanks." his throat constricted. he was cold, so cold -- but he had learned his lesson, and cold is what he must be to protect the vulnerability that was his heart. "i have heard kukutux is with child. congratulations." how stiff he felt, how fake! his gaze swept his brother, trying to suss the real reason jarilo had pursued him. was it truly just a wellness check, or was something else on his inimitable sibling's mind..?