Darkstalker
The three of us are silent in the living room together for a long time. Whiteout and I on one side, Mother on the other. I feel like a stupid dragonet or something.
"Was there a note?" Mother asks, softly.
I shake my head, trying to freeze my mind solid. "Nothing."
Nothing.
"Do you think..." Her talons shake a little bit. "Could it have been an accident?"
I raise one eyebrow at her, gritting my teeth inside. "Does that strike you as likely?"
"Please stop yelling at me," Mother snaps, rubbing her forehead. "This is... this is hard enough on all of us as is." She takes a shaky breath. "I can't handle you as well, Darkstalker."
"Well then, maybe you shouldn't have run off with a horrible dragon."
Whiteout buries her face in her talons.
"Darkstalker," Mother says in her warning tone--
"But if you had to," I continue, my talons clenching up like wrecking balls, "Maybe you should have chosen your dragonets over your moonsblasted relationship—for once. You could have separated from him. It wouldn't even have been—"
"Oh, yes. HE WOULD HAVE JUST GONE TO LIVE WITH THE ICEWING VILLAGE OFF THE GREAT DIAMOND AND LIVED A FULL AND HAPPY LIFE, NO FREAKING PROBLEM! ABSOLUTELY!" Mother booms.
"You chose him over us—" I gesture an angry talon at Whiteout, who's curled up in a ball right now, whispering something unintelligible. "What kind of mother does that?" My teeth are gritted together so tight it hurts. I don't care. Let the pain come. I can handle it.
"Darkstalker—"
"I know what you're going to say. I can see it in your mind."
Whiteout whimpers a little louder. Her mind is so many different colours, it's hard to even think around her.
"I'm so sorry," she whispers, meeting both of our eyes, her own rimmed with red from nights of crying. "I'm so, so sorry..."
"Not enough to change anything." I clench my jaw and look away.
"You could still—" Mother's voice cracks. "Are you sure he's really—"
"I took his pulse, Mother." I can hardly stand being in this room anymore. "And you saw the body too. And I need to go now. Work. Clearsight needs help with—"
"Just go," she whispers. "Can we talk..."
"I'll try and visit tomorrow." I try my best to push the emotion out of my voice.
To be fair, it works. Mostly.
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