Redhawk Caldera You're nothing but a pack of smokes and a bag of tricks.

Bronco didn't respond. It was as much as Sorana expected. No one ever seemed to want to acknowledge that she was there, that she had a voice, or feelings, or that she mattered in any way. This was just another example of that in her eyes.

Instead, she watched with blurred vision and ringing ears as he stepped past her without a word and began to shove his paws into Reyes. Stop! she cried, but couldn't seem to get her feet to move. It was the only thing stopping her from sinking her teeth as deeply into Bronco's hide as they would go for touching her daddy.

Stop it! she screamed with tears streaming down her face. When Sorana had rocked her father's body, she had simply been trying to rouse him with painful shoves. Without any knowledge of what Bronco was trying to do or knowledge of why Reyes was suddenly dead in front of her, Sora saw his actions only as violent.

When Bridget arrived, Sorana reached numbly for her aunt, but the woman was focused on Reyes. She thought Bridget would stop Bronco from stomping on her father's corpse — that's what he was now, she thought with a thunderclap of despair — but when her aunt began doing the same, Sorana crumbled to the ground and began to wail.

Stop! You're hurting him! STOPPIT YOU'RE HURTING HIM! she cried, willing herself to find the strength to push herself up and get them away from her daddy, but it was no use. Sorana had been insecure and in pain even before this. Now the trauma reached its fingers deep down inside her and dug in its claws. It would never let go of her.

Teya's voice pulled Sorana's face away from Reyes and Bronco and Bridget. Already the feelings were starting to numb inside of her, fleeing into the psychological safety of dissociation. She reacted to Teya instinctually, pressing her trembling face into her mother's neck.

Make them stop, she sobbed hoarsely, over and over and over again.