Moonspear shelter

Bitter. 

Kukutux had not deserved that. 

Hydra wondered if she herself did, and considered... 

No. Not from Revui. Love him though she did, again and again Hydra had sought to prepare him for his return home and again and again he had spurned her. Arcturus, too. If any deserved to be bitter, it was her darker brother, and with some mirth Hydra hummed, I will never do right by the two of them, realizing belatedly the way in which she referred to the silver man she sought to remove from her heart and soul. Arcturus, too, spoken of unwittingly, and she looked to Kukutux and elaborated: Save one, then ostracize the other by doing so—but become a murderer should I not, she remembered how Arcturus had come to her that day with the song of a challenge upon his lips. 

Killer, savior—damned, in their minds, no matter what she did. 

Even now, I consider them both in all that I do. How would Arcturus feel, to know I again would provide my protection to the brother that challenged him? And Revui... she shook her head, unable to articulate, eyes turning to look to the pines nearby, inspecting the dancing shadows. 

She licked her chops.

How to make it stop? It had been so easy, with Korei Julia. 

She had sons and daughters to think of. Nieces and a nephew. A brother that would not leave her, and sisters who ever stood by her side. Her gaze fell to Kukutux, recognizing her as one of them. A woman who to her had already become a fixture of this place. The family that remained that was Moonspear, and the Glen. They counted on her, and her strength. Her wisdom to do the right thing, even when it was difficult. 

The Ostrega knew she must stop this considering. Knew she must at last move on. Revui's return, and his turning his back upon her, caused her to understand that some things would not change—

The echo of her brothers voice, flat and cold: "you're insane." 

Oh, Arcturus. He had not been wrong, had he? 

I must believe what he has always shown me. Understand that he has no wish to be here, and no desire to be a part of their family any longer. His choice, his—she had asked for him to, but he had known already that he would depart just as she did, deep in her bones. The singular thing she could count on Revui to do was leave. It was not if, it was when. That was the only thing Hydra could trust with any real certainty when it came to him. It was more difficult to think, that he does not love me as I love him, and yet she did; her voice was not firm for it, as she breathed out: I cannot enable the behavior any more. Perhaps it is me who is keeping him from his full potential for continuing to believe in him, believe that somehow he has changed to be able to consider more than simply himself, without him showing me such is true, she wondered at that, looking her sister over as though seeking any indication that this might be so. 

Was she to blame? 

Waste—she blinked at Kukutux, listening, realizing... 

Blinking again as she heard Revui's predictions, she tried to determine the way in which she felt to hear these things said.

Her brothers, the both of them, did not care to know her at all. 

You wasted nothing, she answered, softer still. Understanding dawned upon her, and Hydra felt the sting of winters bite come in her next inhale. Revui knew well what his answer meant. Loyalty and trust, only for himself. It is the answer of a lone wolf, she hummed, and we are a pack. 

They had treated him as such; family still. Over, and over, and over... he turned his cheek to them. 

Put him away? No. She had simply heard him, seen him—recognized at last the gesture he made with those words, the lifting of his finger in the face of all that she and their family had ever done for him. It did not hurt any less, and it shamed her deeply to see it then, so late.