cole’s voice rumbled through his chest, a promise she prayed would never be forsaken. stay together. whatever this is—face it as a family. it made her chest ache. after a long moment, she sucked up her tears and pressed her cheek to winnie’s next.

her scent was different now. she still smelt like her—but there was something new beneath it. the soft hum of life. she stiffened faintly, her breath hitching as she pulled back just enough to glance down.

oh. oh!

she wanted to be happy for them. she was happy. but it curled inside her like a sick thing, twisted and sour, because she hadn't come back the same.

winslet’s eyes searched her face, then began to scan her body. twitch bristled before she could stop it, the way a half-feral thing might when its wounds were about to be exposed. her posture shifted subtly—one leg drawn forward to shield the other, tail wound tightly at her flank, her abdomen turned inward. ‘m fine, she said, too fast. good to see you’re okay. the scars were still fresh.

scabbed over in places that made her stomach churn. she hadn't touched them. couldn’t wash them—something she’d need to fix soon. and through it all, it was the eyes she feared more than the pain—those who might see what she nearly allowed to happen.

so twitch pulled the seams of herself tighter, stitched herself back up and presented herself the way she always did. awkward and lighthearted.