Emberwood the sorcerer’s apprentice.

No. She stayed where she was, slightly hunched, drawn into herself. Fighting Fig wouldn't change anything. What was the point?

She just wanted something impossible. Was that too much to ask?

No one knew her better than her brother. He would know if something was fucked with her, and while he might not tell her straight entirely, he wouldn't lie. She had to know if this was actually her fault. If there was just some fucking thing that she was missing, in herself, that meant she was never going to get what she needed from anyone.

If something happened, something that made you need space from me, you'd tell me, right? Or would you just figure I wouldn't understand? Fennec huffed out an inauthentic laugh. Because I'm starting to think maybe I'm the crazy one. Is that so fucking hard to ask, that if someone cares about me, they let me fucking know when shit like that happens? And why it's happening? So I'm not going fucking mental thinking it's my goddamn fault?

The anger was creeping back in, and with it, more of that fractured anguish. Maybe she was just crazy. Maybe Bronco had never actually cared.

Good luck with the Emberwood, witch.

She felt sick.