Hushed Willows [festival] if my heart were a turntable

Asking Hydra had felt like the same thing at the time, because she was the only one Gannet had felt would miss him. Now he was not only confused, but feeling a slight edge of frustration. He'd asked Charon, clearly, if he was family, and Charon had said no. He'd sat at Omega the entire time he was there, captive status, but Charon was upset he left. It didn't make any sense. He hadn't minded the rank because there weren't any he minded deferring to, but to him it had spoken plainly of his use to the pack. He'd had none.

He still didn't need to apologize. I will come back. But not to stay. Gannet's voice was surprisingly firm. No one wanted me. Now I'm here, but later I might not be. I'll go where I'm wanted and useful. He didn't look Charon in the eye, but he did keep his eyes on his face. Surprisingly he didn't feel afraid of him, just neutral.

Charon didn't know what it was like, Gannet guessed, to live in a place where everyone simply tolerated your presence. He'd tried to make it work for so long, but eventually the disdain (imagined or real) had chipped away at his confidence so thoroughly he'd felt he had no choice. If he was even starting to hate himself, how long would it have been before Hydra hated him too?

He didn't feel he'd lost any honor, but Charon's words did sting a bit. I repaid it. It was never going to be enough. So he'd chosen for Charon, whether the alpha liked it or not. He hadn't had any faith in Gannet, not as more than a captive, and he was making that even clearer with this conversation right now.