The Untold Story of Texas and Lappland (Arknights)

Days of Forgotten Past 10

In the short month since Lappland had left and their crusade disbanded, life had come to a screeching halt. With the white wolf's absence came an increased downfall of snow. Black ice covered the roads and earth became that much colder. Texas found herself staying inside more often then not, sitting in her reading nook. An opened book sat in her lap but she found herself staring out the window instead of reading. She was tired despite hardly doing anything at all.

And then the fateful day came that the other members of the household had enough.

Knock.

"It's open." She croaked out. Her voice —rarely used— felt scratchy, like it had been clawed one too many times. The cup of water beside her perspired with droplets clinging to the glass. The ice in it had long since melted.

The door was gently pushed open. Gran was on the other side, Houston trailing dutifully behind her with a tray of steaming soup and a pack of crackers. Soup was one of the few things she didn't refuse to eat nowadays. Too rich or too spicy and her stomach disagreed with it vehemently. All of them knew where the loss of appetite came from, but as she was unwilling to talk about it the problem remained. Texas supposed she had lost weight, her stomach hollow like her heart felt.

"Texas, how's my favorite granddaughter doing? I thought you might be hungry." Houston hefted the tray experimentally, careful not to spill the contents in the bowl. Texas stared at the old man, blinking slowly. He hadn't treated her any differently during this disaster. She appreciated it deeply. More than he could ever understand.

"I've seen better days," She said with a sigh. Neither of them mentioned how Amarillo was pregnant, how she might not be the only granddaughter for much longer. It was a pointless endeavor anyways, requiring more conversation than she was willing to give.

"I assumed you might say that. This sitting around and doing nothing is no good Texas," Gran said firmly.

Texas rolled her eyes. Of course she would say that. It had been a matter of time before Gran started griping at her for being lazy. An alpha has to pull her weight. But how could she understand the emptiness that gripped her now. This feeling of loss left her with seemingly nothing. She was tired. So tired. As far as she could tell there was no cure.

"What do you want me to do? I don't . . . I don't feel like doing anything Gran."

Wordlessly, Houston took the book from her lap and placed it on the coffee table. The tray took its place. The smell of soup crept up to her nose. She breathed in the acidic scent, gazed at the noodles and chunks of chicken waiting for her. Whenever she had gotten sick as a child, Houston would make her chicken noodle soup each day until she got better. He was the guy who would make her a bubble bath to relax in, worried over her with cold compresses when a fever got too high and read her bedtime stories before she went to sleep. Houston the best grandpa hands down, even if she was biased.

Gran shook her head, amber eyes flashing with what was likely exasperation. "I know you don't feel like doing anything but you can't just sit around here forever. It's been long enough. So you're going out, no questions asked."

Texas stared at her lap, stirring the soup in her bowl. When Gran said she was to do something there would be no arguing about it. Even in her depressed state she knew there was no point fighting what Gran decided. And yet there was still a question revolving in her mind.

"I haven't eaten yet though. And where do you expect me to go?" Texas asked.

"Yes, I know. So you'll be eating first. And afterwards I have some errands for you to run."

"Couldn't I just go to the park and chill or something else instead?" There were ways to change trajectory, even if only slightly. If Gran wanted her to go out she would, but doing errands sounded so tedious right now. A part of her couldn't be bothered.