Blackfeather Woods People built churches for you, and fought wars in your name, and you did nothing.

Our own pack… The doubt crept in just as quickly as the words themselves. A shake swallow the only defence Siarut could muster. After what had happened last time, how much he had failed her, and everyone else. He wasn’t sure if he could handle such a situation and survive again. But before he could properly process what exactly she meant, she bombarded him with new of home. Of their brother and the rest of their family. But most of all the deaths of their parents.

Sia’s jaw fell open, and he shook his head, confused. He couldn’t find the words, not then. He extracted himself from her embrace. Turning away. He knew she wasn’t attached to their father any more, that she had moved on and could never forgive him. But Siarut held no such reservations. His father was dead, and he hadn’t made amends. Was all he could think about.

And then he thought of their mother and every possible thing their demented sister could come up with to punish all those around her. He need a moment, to think, to worry, to mourn.