Moonspear Beneshrab sagayer

Towhee quickly put her out of her misery. It wasn’t either one of her parents, it was her grandparents. Pie felt a flash of relief, followed by a wave of guilt, which drowned in a flood of horrified sorrow. Both Kukutux and Aiolos were gone? How was that possible? What had happened to them? And when?

She stood there mutely, barely registering Leandros’s hasty departure as she struggled to process this news. Treepie hadn’t known Aiolos very well, yet she’d always adored her grandmother. She felt as if someone had punched her in the gut, leaving a ragged, bleeding hole. She curled slightly, as if actually nursing a stomach wound.

Her eyes flicked toward Moonglow, though Towhee’s outstretched foreleg blocked her view. Pie’s lip quivered for a second, then stiffened. Another loved one—two, actually—had left her utterly bereft. The yearling was beginning to think that it was a terrible idea, having these sorts of connections, as it was only a matter of time before they were painfully severed.

Her bright eyes shuttered as she pulled away from her great grandmother’s grip. Towhee had never done anything to her deliberately, yet she was always conveying bad news. Besides, she was old—older than Kukutux and Aiolos had been, she was fairly certain—and her son was an asshole. Tiuttuk felt her heart closing off to her.

I need to go, she said, already turning, either unaware or uncaring that Towhee might not even catch what she said.

She didn’t care if her elder called out or tried to pursue her. She just climbed and climbed and climbed.