Archer Valle
When Sephrina died, Archer missed her. He still missed her. She had not fallen on the far side of the line he drew between himself and the family he'd been born into. It wasn't her fault... even if she had been the catalyst of all this. He'd grieved for her, and in his grief he'd sought comfort and he'd made this mistake. He'd led Kateri into this exile because he'd been so lost in his grief he had only been thinking about himself, how he would feel better - if only for a little while. He didn't think about how their actions might affect those around them.
He hadn't thought about Viorel, missing his wife already when he'd lost his daughter and, unlike the others who'd walked away, knew he would never see her again.
Archer had been so blind that he'd thought Viorel would forgive him his betrayal, just this once. And when he'd been punished the way he'd been told he would be, he lashed out instead of accepting his fate like an adult. He'd burned bridges. He'd made mistake after mistake after mistake and he couldn't take them back.
He didn't regret his children. Of course he didn't. He loved them more than he ever thought he could love another. He finally understood.
This was agony.
Archer looked down at the lifeless little body curled between his paws. So small. So small and fragile...
He'd gone in to check on him and the boy had barely been breathing. It was rasping and ragged and Archer knew. He'd lifted Andy and brought him outside, so he might breathe the fresh air just once, and the child had shivered and inhaled deeply - and then the air went out of him and took his life with it.
Archer looked at his son. He looked at him, kissed his tiny little head, and then threw his head back and screamed.
Archer is very haggard and thin; it is obvious he is not doing well.