Paradise Falls see what's in reserve

Chan felt that he was being as deferential to their feelings as he could be. Instead, Magg seemed to be growing ever angrier. He lowered further, until he was nearly crouched, what was left of his tail touching the snowy ground. At nearly seven years old, Chan understood that this was not really about him, but rather the traumatizing position his niece had been put in. That he needed to take her words with a grain of salt, and give himself a measure of grace in remembrance of his own struggles and obstacles. He couldn't tell if that really helped at all in this moment. As she layed it all out, Chan understood exactly how hurt his brother would be now, and that alone cut deeply.

Even from a distance, he was constantly failing @Nash.

i am a dark red liver stretched out on the rocks

All the poison, I convert it and I turn it to love

She watched, she let Magg run the show. Isla need only be here when things got messy and complicated. Then things could be muddled into whoever's favor she wanted. Especially when the older man seemed so intent to go belly up on the two young women.

An eye for an eye would be too easy, too quick for how long everyone has suffered. And although she kept her tone low and flat, there was something brewing in her gaze. Sharp and pointed as if she might wound him with it alone. The Backwater needs payment for two daughters, you know. Isla had gone home, brief and fleeting where she had seemed almost an entirely different girl. She doubted that counted in her father's eyes. So she craved to bring down the Backwater's weight here too for no reason other than she could.

A pound of flesh would not be enough. One life would not have even been enough.

What on earth could make the tables balanced? Suffering required suffering.

Isla's words cut through that shell of maturity that Chan thought he was hiding behind.

Two daughters.

His mismatched gaze lifted, now looking her directly in those frigid blue eyes, the same color as the ice her sister had drowned beneath. His own snow and pine sights held heartbreak.

"Isla," emotion filled the word, pressure rapidly building in his chest, pushing him to try and bridge the gap. He wasn't oblivious to what the girl must have gone through in the aftermath, and to have dealt with that alone? He couldn't know that she'd ever gone home, perhaps the Falls had been her first attempt at trying to reintegrate. And he'd been there, a constant reminder of the Cove.

"I'm sorry. We tried."

They'd lost members of their own even, looking for Viorel's lost daughter. They had not forgotten her, had not abandoned her, but what did it matter when she'd been unable to know of, much less feel, any of it?

Her choice had turned the tables, Chan shifting from her completely to address the wayward Valle as she spoke. Even for just that moment, it was no longer about Magg. Her own flame turned inward suddenly, scorching her insides. Features twisting with anger and pain both, she looked away from them both, and Chan's voice from earlier rose up in her mind.

'It's not going to get better, Magg.'

Her eyes burned with tears, and the rest of the world was starting to drift out of focus.

'This is how it has healed, and this is how it will stay.'

She was done for. Not just damaged goods, utterly wrecked. She wouldn't be a guardian, wouldn't be following in her father's shoes. She wouldn't be capable of taking @Diantha out on strolls or keeping up with @Galen's outings. Everything was torn away.

Magg turned without a word, and limped back into the dark recesses of the den. She wanted to be alone.

In an ugly way, she wondered if her father had ever looked the same. Had he ever crumpled down from his heartbreak and loss? Maybe he had only ever been rage and maybe she carried that torch now as she looked upon this man. Magg had disengaged, had left these two here to stand in the smoldering embers of whatever string of tragedies bound them all together.

Go, Her voice low and cold. She did not speak with a striking venom or flaming anger. Oh she had felt those things welling in a grand amount within her chest, but out loud? She only wanted to ice him out.

Let them all come away from here colder.

Chan could hear Magg disappear, and that she did so without a word placed another barbed hook into his heart. Maybe time was what she needed, though. Space alone to process the news that had been broken to her. Perhaps she'd expect him to be gone by the time she came around, but he wouldn't. That was a solidifying thought even before Isla spoke. Her attempt at a dismissal cured it completely into an actionable form. They could hate him, could dig and tear at his insecurities and fears, but none of it would be worse than actually giving up. Even at his lowest, it simply wasn't an option.

Something, trying, was better than nothing, than a void. He remember Colette as he settled his haunches to the ground, taking on the posture of a sentinel. It wasn't just for his niece. Chan wouldn't run from her age-mate, either. If he was to blame for her loss of family, he would do what was in his power to provide that stability. Whether she wanted him to be or not, he was here for Isla, too.

"No."

Softly-spoken and utterly resolute.

(This post was last modified: Mar 24, 2024, 02:00 AM by Chan.)

Then I will.

Ultimately it hardly mattered who departed. Only that someone did. Her fur on raised ends, she turned at once. Figure hunched over and skulking. It would be just as easy to depart off into the shadows she had arrived from.

She imagined there was nothing he could say to make her stay. To make her look at those sad, heartbroken eyes. To remember every cold stab of grief when she looked upon his face.

She had not learned to hate him for who he was, only to hate him for what he represented to her. They had been doomed since Sephrina's death.

Chan watched her go, unable to hold back a heavy sigh of relief once she was gone. He supposed... things could have unfolded far worse. Knowing that didn't help much, though. His head and heart both felt impossibly weighted as he slumped down onto his stomach and rested his muzzle atop his long forelegs.

He'd be alone with his own dismal thoughts for a long time.