Honeyed Pasture Look at all the stars they have fallen

As soon as Fig asked the question again, Fennec was irrationally annoyed. Why couldn't he just make a fucking call of his own? She was tired of calling the shots. She was tired of making all of the decisions only to make the wrong fucking play and screw up in the process. She didn't want to tell him what to do.

I don't care, Fig, just do what you want. It came out angrier than she wanted it to. Normally she preferred when he deferred to her. Now she couldn't help comparing it to the way no one ever seemed to tell her what they actually fucking wanted.

If you want to go there, we can go there. Just, stop making me decide every stupid thing we do. She was lashing out a bit and at least had the sense to feel bad about it immediately. It was also honest, though. She really didn't want to answer a million questions about where they should go when she didn't feel like any of it mattered at the moment. Trying to think about it only made everything worse because she knew, deep down, where she actually wanted to go. And those places weren't possibilities.