Whitefish River Splish, splash, I was taking a bath

After they had been introduced to the outside world, Spica sometimes would come and watch them. She and @Syrma had been closer than ever before (if such a thing was possible) since the birth of their half-siblings, and Spica found herself in conflict. She still felt betrayed by her mother and she hated that she and Emrik just wouldn't admit that it was their fault, that they had caused this rift, and not Syrma and Spica. But on the other hand something drew her to the little ones, a curiosity to see them grow and maybe in part the same sort of affinity she had for her mother; a feeling of family. She didn't particularly like that she felt that way at all; it would all have been so much easier if she could just hate them and if she and her twin could just leave this place and put it all behind her. But her love for her mother kept her here -- besides, sooner or later Emrik might leave her and Spica didn't want her mother to be alone again after that -- and even though they were little thieving twerps Spica also entertained thoughts of being in her half-siblings' lives.

If not, after all, she would've already left a long time ago.

Spica watched as her half-brother looked up into the rain and then down again. What a little idiot. She rolled her eyes as he then started to bite at the rain drops. That'll show 'em, Spica said as she stepped towards Mohe through the rain, a refined sarcasm that one so young wouldn't grasp dripping from her words.