Blackfoot Forest 'Cause this time, there's no sound to hide behind

@Zephyr
Back dated to 12/9 and set directly after this thread

Kavik remained silent until they were a good distance from the Diaspora borders, occasionally glancing around to make sure Zephyr was still following him. He was afraid that she would just disappear and he would suddenly wake up to the sickening realization that this was all just a dream. But each time he checked, she was still there walking quietly and keeping close. 

Once they made their way through the forest and were almost to the meadow, he stopped and turned to Zephyr, unable to hold back his questions any longer. He looked her over, the wounds causing anger to swell in his chest. Zephyr, he forced out, suddenly finding it hard to speak through all of his emotions and thoughts. I thought— He closed his eyes and sighed, glancing back to his daughter with a tortured expression. I thought you were dead. He paused and drew in a deep breath. Are you...the only one, or— He couldn't finish the sentence. It would hurt too much to say the words and then hear that the rest of his family was still dead.

The silence is suffocating. A million questions buzz in his mind; questions about the rest of their family, and where his father has been, how he'd survived, how he'd known to come to the borders of that pack. Yet when he tries to speak, nothing comes — so he lets the silence crush him.
Somehow it's worse when Kavik finally stops and speaks. He swallows hard as he halts, unprepared for the emotion in his father's voice, and his gaze drops to the ground. For several moments, he struggles to make himself speak. Even when he finally finds his voice, he doesn't think it sounds quite like him; it's too small, too fragile and wavering. No. Helios... He swallows again, throat suddenly aching. We ran — and then we were alone and there was a — a fire... The tears start, then, and he hates himself for it, bur he forces himself to continue. I — we have to find him. He's alone now, and maybe hurt.

A million scenarios ran through his head in the moments between his question and his daughter's answer. And the mention of Helios, the knowledge that he had also been alive all this time rendered him speechless once more. He felt like there was a boulder in his chest. They had been alive and alone, and somehow that felt worse than thinking they were dead. 

He was quick to snap into action once Zephyr mentioned a fire, though, easily falling back into protective father mode. A fire? he asked a little incredulously. How far from here and how long ago did this happen? Was it recent enough that he would even be able to do anything about it? And there was still the problem of his wounded daughter; she couldn't travel with him to rescue Helios, which meant that he would have to take her home first. It was an impossible choice, one he didn't think he could make. But how could he be in two places at once?

Kavik's questions deepen his sorrow, and suddenly he finds himself not wanting to talk about Helios at all. The search is his, as Helios always has been, and he doesn't trust their father to find him any more than he trusts that he can resurrect their dead family members. Still, he answers.
A few weeks ago? I don't know. It was far from here, He looks away, taking in a deep breath and searching for another subject. The face of the purple-eyed man flashes through his mind, and it comes to him easily. It only takes him a moment to get swept up in the flood of emotions he'd felt earlier. Dad, I — I need to tell you something. It's not about Helios. His heart starts to beat fast as he says it, tears drying into racing anxiety. He'd meant to wait for him to ask, to let him prepare a little for it, but suddenly he can't hold it in anymore and it comes tumbling out. I'm not your daughter — I mean, I'm not a girl. I don't think I ever was, and I hate it when people call me one. It makes me feel — awful and ugly, like I'm a freak. His gaze stays fixed to the ground, eyes hot and stinging as if he might cry more — but he doesn't. He only waits, breath held.

How could she answer his question so vaguely? Shouldn't she want him to help? But then he remembered who he was talking to. Zephyr. She never confided in him or asked for his help; she never had, despite all his trying to get past whatever wall she had placed between herself and the rest of the world—aside from the chosen few who passed some kind of unknown test he never seemed to be able to pass. He often wondered where he went wrong with Zephyr, but he knew it was just an endless spiral with endless unanswered and impossible questions. His heart ached so badly and burned so intensely that he thought it might sear a hole through his flesh and fall to the ground between them. 

Her words pulled him from his depressing thoughts. Kavik stared at—him for a few moments, unable to process exactly what Zephyr had said. It was confusing at the very least. Zephyr had been born their daughter but felt as though he were their son. Who was Kavik to tell him how to feel, though? And honestly, all he really cared about was that he was alive and well, no matter how much Zephyr pushed him away. Alright, he finally said. I'm sorry, Zephyr. You're none of those things, and I never meant to make you feel that way. In fact, just the knowing that he had inadvertently hurt Zephyr, probably often, was something that would torture him for the rest of his life.