Noctisardor Bypass veida

too rough, too fast.
heda watched druid with a mixture of worry and a new, emerging thing: pragmatism.
"i haven't seen etienne in a while. or anselm. is that who you mean by everyone?"
 glaukos had hurt etienne and batted anselm aside as if he were nothing. not a defense by any means while children young enough to just be opening their eyes still demanded round-the-clock attention.
voice even. steady. dollhouse. empty.
"because if they're gone, we do need him, druid."
glaukos made sure of that when he hurt her sister. tears slid silently down the hollowed stepford face, for why would he leave? six children to his name and a vast, rich territory with his mark stamped to it, no male competitors, and the only one who had stood up to him, hurt;
"he did this." she knew. she wanted to hear druid say it. to watch her sister realize what she did.