Noctisardor Bypass goddess of the hunt

yeah, vex murmurs, uncertain. it wasn’t like he had any sort of idea when he ( and haunt ) would be trusted with being allowed out of the bypass; it could be weeks, months, years. the last of which seemed a bit extreme to him because they’d be adults in an exact year’s time. still, without a clear and cut directive of when vex doesn’t look for it to lift anytime soon. for haunt, this was probably good. she was still healing — at least vex thought she was but he was no medic. for vex, it drives him a bit stircrazy …but at least he wasn’t prowling around being an assbutt to underserving wolves ( at least, for now ).

probably, vex snorts. it’s not like she talks to me so even if she is, there’s no difference. the truth was he and royal were probably too similar …but maybe they weren’t at all. after all, as far as vex was aware, she was too busy trying to be the perfect daughter. vex had ambition too but he was also a free thinking, wild, rebel child. he doesn’t even think she visited haunt which sits wrong in vex’s chest. even if royal did speak to him, he’d probably accuse her of a lot of unfair things — largely of not caring about haunt like she was supposed to.

the admission that haunt gives him feels heavy, the use of their father’s name out loud settling like a weight vex had been trying to avoid upon his shoulders. maybe kaertok wasn’t worth it …but vex finds himself gritting his teeth all the same. i am, he declares with a huff, hoping that haunt won’t tattle on his future plans when he’s allowed to roam again. because if you’re right haunt, if he really left us... we deserve to know why. we’re his friggin’ kids.

vex wants answers, answers that he could only get by tracking kaertok and demanding them; more than that he wants kaertok to feel the sting that vex feels now: burning in his chest, in his lungs.

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