Northstar Vale My rusty wings are weak and tired, oh.

The fit would not subside. Moisture gathered at the corner of Towhee’s eyes and streamed down her cheeks. Her breath came in gasping gulps in between great whoops of laughter that shook her entire body. Her eyes sought Phox’s, some of the whites showing around her otherwise orange irises.

His foreleg slung over her shaking shoulder and, slowly, the Eidos managed to collect herself. Shivery breaths tore in and out of her lungs and she sat up a little straighter when Phox thumped her on the back. Towhee felt strangely embarrassed about the maniacal display, though she supposed it was better than crying.

Her brother proposed they stay here. Towhee balled a fist and rubbed it at one wet eye, then the other. She nodded. It was the most logical, pragmatic thing to do in this situation. His was the voice of reason she needed so desperately right now.

But… What if I can’t, Towhee mumbled.

First they’d lost Leona. Now Maxim was gone. Even without considering her beef with the neighbors, Towhee didn’t know how she could ever be happy here again. But maybe she would never be happy again, period. Perhaps she needed to set aside that entire notion and just focus on the family members she had left, especially her poor fucking kids.

She lapsed into brooding silence, pondering Phox’s use of “when” rather than “if.” It made her think of her brother’s most recent absence. Towhee had never pressed him for the gory details, picking up on his aversion to the topic. But was it possible the same thing that had waylaid Phox might’ve happened to Maxim too? Would he turn up one day, mysteriously missing a limb but otherwise intact?

I’m done searching, she told Phox quietly. I always knew this was going to happen. All I want is for him to magically reappear. But wouldn’t it be smarter to just… Towhee gestured, trying to convey something she couldn’t articulate.