Blackfeather Woods the good, the bad, the crazy

His body lay on the ground; his pack mates had to abandon him in a rush, being driven back by the other wolves. The enemies, well — Perhaps it was because they thought him to be dead, too, or perhaps it was the proximity to the weeping willow that caused their hackles to raise at the thought of returning here. His fur was sticky with blood and the scent of death and poison was around him. He lay at the edge of the meadow, where the pollen flowed but was not enough to drive a wolf into madness — only the occasional piece of it reached all the way to the meadow's outskirts.

A rustle of wind blew a few brown leaves into his wiry fur. His body seemed lifeless as it lay there, the wind playing with his fur. He seemed a part of the scenery, a part of nature. The scene was almost harmonic and Cicero himself would not have cared much for his own death. Nothing happened, the body remaining still but for a very slow and steady heartbeat and a very slow up-and-down from breathing, were anyone to take the time to get close enough to see.

Shaking paws drew body up. Body slumped repeatedly before he reached the edge of the meadow, where he crashed down once more.

Was it hours, was it days, was it weeks that had passed? Dry tongue lapped at the inside of his mouth. Once more he pushed himself to his feet. Weak paws quivered under his weight as he slowly made his way to a nearby stream, where he gratefully lapped up water after once more falling to the ground.

It took some time to get to a cache and eat some left-over food. The forest had never been so quiet, almost eerily so. He had little to think of but to heal and nourish himself in the time that followed.

After taking care of his basic needs Cicero once more fell to the ground, curled up in the place that used to be his and Damien's den, where they slept. A trail of blood followed him, fresh and distinguishable, for he'd gnawed on one of the wounds on his foreleg; a nasty habit he had always found hard to depart with. The pain made him feel alive, but being barely able to move made him feel like his end would likely be soon.

@Euron @Ramsay @Maegi :D

I've kept the precise location of wounds and such vague because the thread isn't very far yet.

For the pups to return to the dark woods was a massive undertaking. Fortunately for the trio, Euron was remarkably observant and recognized many guiding landmarks, and Ramsay had a keen nose for tracking; it was he who ultimately lead them back and connected those dots.

Euron had never looked more like his father than he did when the pups finally reached Blackfeather. Though he was a talented mouser and had caught several rodents along the trip, it had not been enough. His body had withered and his coat now rippled over his ribcage. He had always been possessed of a thin frame but he had been sleek before and not rawboned like his father — like he was now. Despite this, the boy still travelled well. The return had eaten some of his muscle but not his spirit and determination.

Ramsay continued to lead them, picking up Cicero's trail inside the forest and untangling it from the web of scents therein. The blood lead them to an old den.

Euron stepped forward and peered into the shadows.

"Cicero?"

Slow heart beat thumped in chest though he was not sure for how long it still would. Cicero had found this place, a place of fond memories, Damien's den, so that he could die in peace. He let out a strangled breath and closed his eyes, feeling content knowing that that would be what would happen. He savoured the pain but did nothing to further clean his wounds. It was good this way. The end would be soon, he was sure of it.

Cicero?

A single ear ticked backward, a voice, perhaps the only voice, that would be able to take him from this state of being. "Euron?" He did not yet realised that the other pups were there too. He struggled to turn himself so that he faced the outside of the den, every part of his body aching and begging him to simply turn back 'round and wait for the end to come.

The journey from the bypass back to Blackfeather Woods was long and exhausting. Ramsay, who had done no hunting at all at his age, had to get by on scraps that Euron and possibly Maegi managed to fish up. Hunger nipped at his belly and dogged his every step, making his focus wane over time. A few times he lost the scent in his distraction, but always he managed to pick it up again. He had been born with a grotesque figure with different limitation than normal wolves, but Mephala had granted him in exchange an excellent schnoz for picking up even the faintest scent trails.

Once within Blackfeather Woods, the smell of blood and decay hit him like a wall. Being outside it for so long had taken away some of his ability to ignore the smell; he nearly gagged on it, even though it smelled like home and was a comfort as well. The war had added fresh splashes of blood to the borders, but Ramsay passed over them quickly without stopping to investigate. Cicero's scent wasn't hard to find after that, and when they tracked him to a path of blood, the pups had an easier time finding him.

Ramsay didn't know the significance of the den, but stood to the side as nimble Euron poked his head in. Only when Cicero's quiet voice echoed out from the entrance did his rounded ears cup forward and his body let go of the tension he hadn't know he was feeling.

Every step of the journey, Maegi had wondered if going with her brothers was a mistake. Her stomach constantly rumbled, her already disheveled appearance grew worse, and the youthful light behind her eyes had dulled considerably. Every muscle, every instinct, screamed turn back!

But all of those doubts and fears vanished when they entered the woods.

It was a tremendous weight lifted off her shoulders, to be one with the shadows once more, to have that heady smell of decay--more acrid now, with the blood spilled in the war--fill her nostrils. Her chest swelled with emotions she hadn't felt in weeks, and she drew in a half-sobbing breath.

Every child should have the privilege of being able to come home after a long voyage to the unknown; it is the feeling of relief and exhaustion and euphoria all woven together, a tapestry upon which to lay their head.

Her comfort grew further still as the pups tracked a familiar scent, reached a den, and she heard Cicero's voice answer Euron's inquiry. Cicero! Unable to hold back any longer, Maegi stumbled up to the mouth of the den, her small head popping up beside Euron's like an exuberant blooming flower, a grin on her face for the first time in far too many days.

"Cicero," she whispered, slumping slightly against Euron. He was alive, he was safe. They were safe.

Euron's tail thumped wildly against his flanks, battering his sister as she came up and leaned on him. He turned to grin broadly at her, and at Ramsay, before he turned his attention back to his father's face inside the darkness of the den.

"You are not dead!" Euron exclaimed. "Oh," he paused, knitting his brows as his eyes adjusted and took note of all the damage that Cicero had suffered. Blood, pain and weariness emanated from the patchwork wolf, causing the pup to wrinkle his nose and frown deeply. "But you are maybe on your way..." Euron worried with a whine. "Can you come out?" He asked Cicero as he backpedalled and then quickly glanced between his siblings with a question. "Who here knows how to stop things from becoming dead? Like... make them better."

His eyes whipped back and forth between Ramsay and Maegi before he settled on his sister. He did not know if she knew. He knew that she dabbled in things that neither him nor Ramsay did, and that she sometimes knew things they did not, so it was on her that his concerned gaze settled.

There was something comforting about the enthusiasm with which his son proclaimed that he was not dead. Cicero chuckled but the sound was cut short by a painful coughing. With a wry grimace he looked up at Euron as he tried to piece together who might be able to fix him. It seemed unfair to put so much pressure upon a child, though if she would try anything Cicero would not turn away the help.

"The forest is not safe anymore," Cicero told the pups after he had dragged himself from the den and collapsed onto the ground again in front of them. "You must leave. Cicero can lead you to a safe place." His thoughts drifted away to the one wolf in his life who had been a stable presence when he was their age. It was a long shot, but one he felt he must take. He left the options open for them to choose, though he hoped that they would accept his help. Cicero was not sure how he would find this wolf and if he would manage or survive, but they would have to try.

He was content to sit at the back, the shadowy observer as always, until Euron's exclamation dispelled his worries. Maegi was quick to crowd into the entrance as well and the dwarf, blocked from doing so, did the best he could to peek over his siblings' backs. It didn't quite work out for him, but Cicero eventually dragged himself out into the dim forest light, and Ramsay's short tail began to wag.

He offered scarcely even a look when Euron cast around for someone to heal Cicero. The only wolf with any potential expertise among them was Maegi. Ramsay was finely crafted for tracking and his short, thick body made for an efficient battering ram, but of finer arts, he knew little. Euron even had a better chance than he did. Rather than attempting to help with the myriad wounds, he simply stated, "dead is dead and alive is alive," and left his assistance at that. Cicero wasn't dead yet.

While the others tended to their tasks, Cicero offered to take them somewhere safe, and Ramsay played the role of informant for once. "Pack is that way," he said, turning swiftly to the north and jabbing his square muzzle in that direction, "but Vaati is making too many threats and strange wolves challenge him. One said he would rape them til their rectums bleed." Ramsay still didn't realize that Ithrik had been talking about them. He didn't even know what the threat meant. "Pack is doomed with Vaati and pro'ly doomed with them, too," he cryptically concluded, then turned back to Cicero for his advice. The prints on his shoulders were much faded from when they were applied, and distorted by his growth.

Ramsay had the fleeting notion that asking for them to be reapplied while Cicero was in such bad shape was rude, and didn't.

Euron was right--Cicero didn't look good. Their patchwork father was bloodied and beaten down, his mismatched eyes dull with pain and fatigue. While she was relieved to find him alive, she knew he needed help. . .and her brain had already began to rifle through the possibilities when Euron's gaze fell on her, his question hanging between them.

"I. . ." Her voice trailed off, uncertain. For all she had learned about Blackfeather lore, her knowledge of plants was woefully small; all she really knew was poisons, and only those Cicero had shown her. She firmed her jaw as she strained to find some solution. "I've heard that poppies can help to make people stop hurting," Maegi offered timidly, peering in at Cicero. "And--oh! The moss in the Mire, it soaks up water. Maybe it soaks up blood, too?"

She had no earthly idea what the poppy flower looked like, nor did she know how to apply moss--but it was worth a try, right? Before she could run to fetch any, however, Cicero emerged from the den, falling to the ground. The forest is not safe anymore. Cicero can lead you to a safe place. Maegi frowned, surveying their father on the ground with visible doubt. She didn't think Cicero could lead them anywhere, in this condition, and besides, if the pups had gotten here by themselves, couldn't they flee to safety on their own power, too?

Her eyes darted sharply to Ramsay as he spoke, silently applauding his marvelous sense of direction (she, herself, was utterly lost in that regard). The girl did flinch, though, at his next words. She hadn't heard the vile words thrown around--she had been so lost in thought that all but actions had sailed over her head--and she disapproved of her brother's words toward Vaati. Threats had been made, after all. Why shouldn't Vaati throw them right back?

"Why isn't the forest safe?" Maegi asked Cicero, leaving Ramsay's comments unanswered, for now. "Aren't they all gone? Aren't we the only ones here, now? Why can't we just stay here?"

Euron's ears stayed folded to his skull as his father collapsed before them and told them the forest was no longer safe. He opened his mouth to protest — he wanted to stay here, where he was born and where he belonged — but he only sighed in resignation. He trusted Cicero and the curious part of him wanted him to see where Cicero would take them. Them being the key word. Euron had no desire to return to the bypass when all he cared about was here with him now. He thought fleetingly of his fledgling interest in the dark coywolf... but that was all.

Maegi had a suggestion as to how help Cicero, and Ramsay informed him of the current state of the pack; an assessment that Euron agreed with. He had nothing important to contribute and in his weariness he remained silent, lightly bobbing his snout in acknowledgement of what was said. He had the same questions as his sister and glanced to Cicero for his answer — but he did not want to sit around and debate. He wanted to get Cicero the things Maegi spoke of, and then he wanted to go to where ever they had to go.

Ramsay said that the rest of the pack had gathered elsewhere, but that he didn't trust Vaati's judgement to lead the pack. Cicero knew he should have taken control of the pack before, for it was too much pressure to put upon the shoulders of such a youth. Yet if he had done so, would he not have been cast out by that very youth for his physical weakness? Blackfeather wolves were arrogant, at times deserved but often overly boldly so.

No matter. What had happened had happened, now.

Maegi seemed distressed at the thought of leaving the woods, saying it was safe now. Now, yes, but the other wolves might come back should they realise that Blackfeather Woods was still inhabited, or inhabited again.. After all, what reason did they have not to? They had wiped them away once. All they needed to do was rinse and repeat. "No. It is not safe here. The wolves will return once they realise that the Blackfeather wolves are not truly gone, are not all dead. They have won once, so why would they stop now?" From all that Cicero'd learned about the psyche of wolves, he was certain with this conclusion. Now, he turned to Ramsay and nodded.

"When Cicero was younger, he had a mentor. A father of sorts. He will bring those of you who wish to come to him. It will be safe. This mentor was once a leader of the Dark Brotherhood, and was the wisest, calmest leader that Cicero has ever seen at its head." It was only after Burke had stopped being its leader that the Woods had made more and more enemies, had spun out of control. Cicero did not think he could have stopped it. Maybe Damien, with his commanding presence, with Cicero as his advisor to stop him from following his hot-headed thoughts... But not without his brother. They were a pair, but no longer now. He would always love Damien, but perhaps their journey together had come to an end at long last now...

"Now, let's see those poppies and moss," Cicero murmured as he lay his head down between his legs as a shiver crept through his spine. He was cold and wounded and he may not survive this, but he would get those puppies to Burke. "Meanwhile, you can all think whether you wish to undertake this journey, or stay here." He did not remind them again that the wolves that'd harmed them might return, or that it would be dangerous to stay with Vaati or the wolves that'd challenged him. They needed to make this decision by themselves.

If he took any notice of his siblings' conflicting reactions to his information, Ramsay didn't show it. He waddled some feet away in his strange manner and took a seat near a drift of snow that had blown up against the blackened trunk of a dead tree to listen as the others conversed. Maegi was voicing her desire to stay. Cicero was telling her why they couldn't. Ramsay had said what he wanted to, and made his feelings known, so he stayed mum now. He didn't trust Vaati with arrogance wreathing him so fully that a challenge should lead immediately to death threats; the dwarf was very young still, and naive in his own way, but he understood at least that much. He didn't want to live under his elder brother's rule if volatility was the only constant, as he thought it might be.

Besides, he had long since decided that Cicero was his personal leader. If Cicero told him to go somewhere else, Ramsay would do so, even if a higher authority tried to stop him. That was just how he had always been: disobedient and driven by his own freedom to choose whom he followed. Even Maegi and Euron had more authority in his eyes than most anyone else by virtue of stabilizing him. So when Cicero said they would go to find the calmest and wisest leader of Blackfeather Woods history, he was automatically in. Blackfeather Woods by itself offered him little comfort; now it was simply a matter of whether his siblings were going or not, which had the power to alter his decision.

Fear clutched at her heart like icy jaws, tearing into the flesh so recently wounded by the war. Why would they stop now? One day, she would be able to peacefully live with the knowledge that there were wolves that wanted her dead. As a child, she had a long way to go to reach that level of zen.

They had just come home and now they had to leave again? Maegi was incredibly disheartened. And overlaying the sense of homesickness was the terror of leaving everyone else behind. Unlike Ramsay and Euron, she was not so close to Cicero as to follow him blindly; her loyalties more lie with a few of the wolves in the Bypass. Kove. Nyx. Vaati, even with his flaws.

And Meldresi's body was here. Even if Potema was right--even if the Night Mother would have hated her--she still felt a pull toward the dead priestess. More importantly, Miraak's bones now lie here, too.

She would need time to think this over. For at least the duration of the search for moss and poppies, if not more. She knew that time was of the essence. . .but this was an incredibly important decision.

Swallowing, Maegi nodded at Cicero. "I know where the moss is," she said softly, her voice sounding much smaller than usual. "But I don't know what poppies look like. Are they plants or flowers?" Truthfully, even if Cicero gave her the best description possible, she would still struggle in finding the medicine he needed.

But she would try.

"Does he spy?" Euron asked. His only interest in the father-mentor of Cicero's was this: if the wolf could teach him things he wanted to be taught. Otherwise he only cared to be with his siblings and Cicero, and did not care where he had to be for them to be together. Granted, he would prefer the woods — their woods. But Euron was not thinking the trip was anything but temporary. They would come back to the dark forest soon™.

The subject shifted. Cicero proposed that they consider whether they wanted to go or stay. "We're all going." Euron said. It was not his habit to speak for his siblings but he could not imagine that either of them would disagree. On his paws, the boy started to move through the trees. He did not know where the moss was or what poppies looked like, but there was an agitation in his limbs that denied him from sitting still any longer. He would slip back to the rear as soon as someone — Maegi or Cicero presumably — stepped forward to lead.

Cicero coughed difficultly as Maegi went off to find moss and poppies. "Look for your mother's stash," he said; "She will have plenty." He grimaced as she left and Euron decided that they would all go. There was a weak smile on his blood-covered face as he looked at the boy, feeling proud for all that he had learned.

"He is good to practise spying on," said Cicero with a longing smile as he thought of his childhood spent with Burke. "A keen eye." A lot of what Cicero'd learned was practised by himself, but it was wolves who were equally smart and cunning that he had practised on that had truly taught him, in a way.

As it was decided they'd all come by Euron, Cicero added: "We should leave after Maegi fixed worst of the wounds." He was not too sure he would survive the rest of this winter in his current state and perhaps that knowledge was what pressed him on in such a rush, now. He wanted to get up and go soon, before he would truly lay down and never get up again.

He followed along in casual silence, like he often did, and melted into the background of their hubbub for the most part. Ramsay went unnoticed compared to his siblings like this often, it seemed, and it was to his advantage that he did; although, when he was alone or in the company of strangers, he often got the spotlight, but not because he wanted it. He rather liked to stay in the back, quietly thinking away, where no one could read his face.

So he spoke up only to say, "yes," in agreement with Euron. They would all go. There was no Ramsay without Maegi and Euron, just as he naively imagined there was no Maegi or Euron without him; they were a trio and they went together as a trio. That there might be any other option was simply ludicrous. He peered around at them as Maegi went about her business of patching Cicero up, and at length he quietly asked, "how far?"

He had reason to, one day, want to find Blackfeather Woods again, if this mentor of Cicero's did not plan to take them back here himself.

The moments ticked by, long yet inexorable. Her brain in a fog, Maegi went to the swamp and found the moss; raided Potema's cache for the poppies, careful not to ingest any herself. She needed a clear head, both to heal Cicero and for what came next. But her father would need the pain relief, and so, despite her inner turmoil, she made haste, returning to the den with her jaws stuffed to bursting with medicine.

Cicero guided her through the steps, and the girl found a sort of uneasy peace in these ministrations, delighted as the moss began to soak up blood and the poppies dulled the razor-sharp pain that was etched deep in the lines of his face. It was gentle, empathetic work, a job she couldn't imagine Potema ever doing. Was the white priestess so? Could she hate only her pups--her brother--and have love for everyone else?

The familiar anger filled her--but a sense of loss, as well. For when she spoke next, she would seal her destiny. She would stay in these Woods, where her mother remained. . .and would see her brothers leave.

"I'm not going," Maegi announced suddenly, her voice uncomfortably loud in the quiet clearing. She flattened her ears, feeling an incredible mixture of guilt and self-consciousness. "I mean, someone has to let everyone else know that we found Cicero. That we're all okay. And that you're going to find this. . .mentor."

Her breath left her in a sudden sob, her composure crumbling like autumn leaves underfoot. She was lying, to them, to herself, to everyone. "But really, I'm scared," the girl cried out, hanging her head with the sorrow pressing down on her like a tremendous weight from above. "I'm really scared. I'm not brave like you, Ramsay, or clever and quiet like you, Euron. I never even left the Woods until after the war. And I hated it!

"I don't want to leave! I don't want to leave Kove, or Nyx, or the Altar or the stupid poison tree or Mir--" Her face crumpled as she moaned in agony. "I don't even know if we buried Miraak! He's probably still laying there where they killed him!"

She felt like she was being torn limb from limb. Every word, every thought, that tumbled from her mouth was like a blow to the chest, hitting her harder and harder until she was left breathless. Gasping for air, she tried for sentiments between sobs and failed, instead breaking down into mindless whines for a long moment as the grief overwhelmed her.

Her eyes lifted to fall on Euron and then Ramsay, her throat filled with a lump she couldn't swallow. "And I'm a stupid coward, because I don't love anyone more than I love you two," Maegi whispered, her voice barely audible. "But I can't go. I don't want to go. I'm scared."

Walking clumsily over, she butted her head against Euron's shoulder and cuddled up to Ramsay--gods, how many times had she done that? Ever since they had been born, and they had helped each other survive, giving each other their body heat, their hearts, their souls. They should be inseparable, and now she was ruining it all, all because she was selfish. And scared. So terribly scared.

"Please come back one day," Maegi pleaded, muzzle pressed hard against Ramsay's cheek. She lifted her head and blinked at Euron, then looked to Cicero, the adult in the room. "Please come back when it's safe. I don't want to lose them forever." Another sob racked her body as she stared at her father, who had done nothing wrong--at least to them. "I don't want to lose you, either."

And thus, the girl sealed her fate. It seemed she was bound to the Woods forever, that she would choose this place over life and limb and family, the closest she had. The whispers through the trees were her breath, the bubbling of the creek set to the beat of her heart. Whatever destruction lie ahead here was her destiny, too. If she was to die, she would die here. It was meant so.

But for many moons to come, she hoped she died. She hoped something struck her down for the betrayal of her brothers. And their faces, twisted and still in death's agony, would haunt her nightmares until she saw them once more. If she ever did.

Maegi stayed glued to their sides until they left, feeling as if her life was coming to a screeching, devastating halt.

"I'm sorry," she said over and over. As if it would make it better.

Euron looked over his sister's shoulder with focused care as she worked . He watched as the moss darkened to red with absorbed blood, and observed the ragged lines of flesh that had been cut into his father's hide. He saw how the skin moved and twitched and made the wounds alive. His was a deep and morbid curiosity, and he was fascinated by the gore before him. It would look so much better on a stranger... or on Potema... and when his mind drifted there he imagined running his tongue along the edges of those cuts.... and then Maegi spoke, snatching him away from fantasy and bringing him to a nightmare.

"I'm not going."

Euron stepped aside and maneuvered until he could see Maegi's face in full and not just her cheek and temple. Surely she was lying, or joking. Surely he would read some other message on her countenance. He tried to catch her eyes as her words hummed strangely through his head as though it was some faraway figure that was talking. She said so many things... but all he focused on were the names she spoke. Names that had taken up residence in her heart where only Ramsay and Euron ought to be, and where Cicero was welcome to be too.

The boy was stiff as his sister bumped her head against his white-patched shoulder, and he side stepped away from her almost immediately. He felt himself flush hot and was aware of the erratic cadence his heart had adopted. His sister was turning her back on them in favor of other wolves, and of things that were not even alive. Disbelief, anger, grief... all of it flashed across his face and was bared for the world to see. Until a baleful coldness settled in and held with the unwavering presence of an endless winter.

"I will come back." He said. His voice was marvelously chilling and fashioned with calculated emphasis. "I will come back... here." He took a step toward Maegi, never once letting his stygian stare stray away from her. He delivered the rest of his promise with grave finality. "But... I will never... come back... to...

...you."





He did not linger. Euron ghosted and was gone.

Cicero instructed Maegi however she needed for the wounds to be patched up. He grimaced often through the process; his face was messed up, though probably looked worse than it really was. In his experience, wounds on the face were the easiest to make and the easiest to heal. His body ached all over from the fight and the many wounds he had sustained but they would get better, he hoped. Yet in the back of his mind there was always the doubt that he may not get better, and perhaps that was what drove him away from the Woods most of all. They were not safe there, the pups, and if not for him, who would bring them to safety?

The poppy seeds did not bring instant relief but he knew that they would help eventually. Maegi, after finishing cleaning his wounds and bringing him the poppy seeds, then declared that she could not leave. He understood, although he would be sad if it meant he would never see her again. If it meant she might die here, with the rest of the fools.

But everyone had their own choices to make. Even if they were foolish ones. He allowed Euron to talk to his sister first, which ended in him walking away. Cicero grunted as he heaved himself to his shaking paws, knowing the time had come for them to go. Cicero nosed Maegi's cheek almost lovingly and he said softly, "Until we meet again." There was a finality to his words and a tone that implied that he did not think they would see each other again. His words were laced with sadness, almost as if he knew that they would not meet each other again. He did not believe in anything beyond life and death. Just nothing. A body deprecated, died, gone.

After those few words he turned 'round and started to limp after Euron, departing and allowing Ramsay his own farewell and knowing they would meet up again soon for the journey to find Burke.

While Maegi patched up Cicero, Ramsay let both his mind and his eyes wander, at least up until Maegi declared that she wasn't going with them. His gaze was slow to turn back to her, but his ears had snapped forward the second she said it, and by the time his vision followed suit, he was frowning deeply. He was stunned into silence for most of Maegi's explanation; the only indication that he'd heard anything she said was the increasing depth of the lines carved over his eyes.

The only reason he allowed her to touch his cheek then was because he didn't know how to react, but it was brief contact before Ramsay pulled away from it, tail stirring uncertainly. Luckily for Ramsay, Euron mustered the words that he couldn't find on his own tongue, and cast her down with a shockingly cold decree. Ramsay agreed, more or less. A whine parted his lips briefly as he glanced between his siblings, his two pillars, but in the end he knew which one he would go with. Maegi had simply made herself too scarce in their lives in the days leading up to the war to have a stronger pull on him than Euron and Cicero jointly did.

"You lie," he said sadly as he pressed his ears back to his truncated neck and glared in her direction. "You care more about them than us. Wouldn't be scared if you didn't. I can't choose you if you won't choose us." There was nothing else for him to say, because Euron had already thrown the torch on that bridge, and Maegi herself had already lanced his heart. Ramsay wasn't as quick to retaliate as marvelously as Euron did, but he still turned away from her and trotted after his brother and father, leaving no room for her to seek comfort, at least from him.