Swift River Easy come, Easy go

His teeth connected and he tightened his grip, pulling first to the side and then simply up as she lunged between his forelimbs. All he wanted was to throw her around a little. His mind was a chaotic mixture of emotions and driving forces, but despite all that had gone between them, he was not yet far gone enough to use true violence against her. So when she nipped at him and his teeth clenched reactively, he swiftly regretted the blood that leaked into his mouth.

Sven released his hold entirely, allowing her an escape and backpedaling himself to put distance between them. He hadn't meant that, and a flutter of fear banged around in his chest as his ghostly eyes searched her features, desperately hoping to see recognition of the fact. The forgettable heir knew how closely he was truly watched, had always been able to see the suspicion in his elders' eyes. They expected darkness from him, feared violence. But he hadn't meant it.

"I'm sorry," he whispered hoarsely. "I didn't-- I'm sorry."

His tail threatened to curl at his hocks, legs locking in place. Sven didn't want to seem pitiful, didn't want to care what Morganna might think of this. But fact was, he did.

As he released his hold, she scooted back a few steps, her head held wearily low, smirk still clear on her face but it would seem that her nephew was declaring the game done. Her tail gave a friendly wave, a no hard feelings between his apologies, "S'all good," she attempted to reassure the boy, easy smile thrown his way as she rolled her shoulders. "I probl'y deserve more'n that, but I've got a long way ter get back home," and two children in tow to boot. "Yer've gotten a lot better," she praised the boy, no, man before her, silently wracking her brain for any clue she might be able to give him as to his father's location.

She held her tongue between her teeth for a moment, wondering if perhaps it was a topic worth broaching with the boy. But she supposed any information could be the difference between her brother being found or not. "Did 'e mention a Cattori before 'e left at all?" Although she would never trust the name given herself. "I ran inter an Oak wolf looking fer Samuel Lyall just before I left, but the description she gave matched yer father..." God was this something she should be mentioning to her brother's son? It could have just been coincidence of course but... but she couldn't convince herself as much. "She was pregnant." It wasn't fair to keep it from him.

Her smile and reassurances allowed him to breathe again, relief flooding his chest. It was almost a little hard to comprehend that she would be so forgiving when he could still faintly taste her blood. He swallowed deeply a few times, trying to wash it away with his own saliva. When she complimented him, he looked up mid gulp, frozen for a second.

Oh, how badly in that moment he wanted to forgive everything and be close to her again.

But then his father was brought up again and the urge passed. There was no going backwards in a relationship, he had learned that lesson plenty. The name Cattori meant nothing to the boy and it didn't much perk his interest, until she went on and each added detail lifted his ears higher until that final blow sent them back down against his skull.

Sven's muscles locked up as his mind reeled, trying desperately to wrap around the possibility, until finally he exploded with a loud, "fuck!"

Up and moving once more, he began to pace furiously. Hecate hadn't been enough, Skoll had whored around? Pretending to be a Lyall of all things; wasn't that just fitting? And now... there might be other children out there. Had he even checked up on them? Did they know who they were, Archers by every right? Where was their mother? Gone like Hecate?

Maybe it wasn't true. His father's pelt wasn't exactly a rare one. Sven slowed gradually to a stop.

"No, I don't know of any fucking Cattoris. I can ask Halie, I guess."

Except things were weird with @Sahalie and he really hadn't wanted to bring up personal, emotional things like this with her anymore.

"Was he always like this?" the teen suddenly demanded of his aunt, blazing silver eyes raising to meet hers.

"Making mess after mess and leaving them for everyone else to clean up?"

@Sven's reaction was harsher than her own, but then again she had lost faith in her sibling before the news came to light. All the could do was hold her ground and be a shoulder if he needed it. That he was still talking to Sahalie was a small blessing, she even managed the edge of a smile at the mention of the girl's name. She did like Sven's friend the one time she had met her and some part of her still lamented the fact that she never got over to the other side of the mountain. But she had seen so much more so she let the feeling go easily.

Her grin turned into a grimace at her nephew's next question, it was a fair one, and who but her mother would know better than his sister. "No." She answered honestly, "When we were young, with our brother Asriel, things were different. We had mother, an' Nonna Skana, but she died, an' Angier was around but he wasn' our father. When Deacon, Greer an' Castiel came along things were different. Asriel vanished an' we both changed. We didn' want ter disappoint Nonna but she was gone an' Asriel wasn' there ter keep us in line." She had probably been wrong to leave him behind, but she needed him to know that things couldn't go on the way they had. There had to be consequences.

 

"I tried m' best, but they kept lettin' him get away with everythin, he killed the leader o' th' pack that took Deacon, maybe. What if it was jus' some stupid subordinate without a clue? When I found 'im they were comin' back t'wards us, not runnin' th' other way... He knocked up yer mother, he knocked up Hecate... an'..." and this was one she had played a part in covering up, "An' I think 'e might o' killed Xetor. 'e was a useless lump o' shit an' wasn't missed fer weeks but..." Well what else could she say? He was an Archer? Mother was upset? But Sven hadn't asked for any of this, it was a simple question, one that she had blown way out beyond what Sven had asked.

"He wasn' always like this, an' if he came back t'morrow I'd beat his arse from one side o' the rise ter the next, but I'd forgive 'im..." Well, maybe not for dumping his daughter on his son, there was no way to make that right. "At th' end of it all he's my brother, an' I love 'im. Jus' like I love you, an' Kara an' Odin an' Mother." Just like she loved Isolde, and loved Ravenna and Niles and all the rest of her siblings. She wasn't sure if she had ever spoken the words aloud before, but she had never been one for wearing her heart on her sleeve.

Honestly? He had expected a yes. That no seemed resounding, bouncing around his upturned ears. Each word beyond that slowly leveled them downward until they were snugged firmly against his skull. It was a lot to take in, names to keep track of and extended relationships he'd never considered before. Like his absent grandfather. Then, the revelation that his crocodilian father was a murderer, coming off her tongue without a change in inflection as though it was the same as any other trespass in the laundry list of Skoll's life. Sven grit his teeth and shook his head.

Yet her ending statement began to loosen the taut anger within him. Because ultimately, wasn't it the same for him? Forgive wasn't a word he could use, but then when had he truly been given the chance to do so? When had someone actually strove to fix what they had broken? Maybe that's what Morganna was doing now. He wasn't there yet, but it wasn't like he hated her. For all the violent rage that lived inside of him, for all the times that he had been sent into a fit by the actions of others, had wanted to hurt them, hate was a word he could never use to describe how he felt about them. Not his father, not Angier, not Morganna.

Maybe that was an illusion he was creating for himself, to feel better about what he actually was. Or maybe Piety really had made a difference in the short time she'd been there for him, instilling in him the ability to love that his father had seemed to have lost.

His paws shuffled, pale gaze fixed on the ground as he mumbled begrudgingly, "I love you too."