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Her gaze finally turned, somber and silent, in Sindri's direction. Two things can be true, huh? Doubtful. She was about to turn away, but Sindri kept speaking. And slowly, miraculously, the light returned to Bragi's eyes.

She was... loved? Her breath caught in her throat, but she managed to suck it down. But I don't... do anything, she pleaded, almost desperate. Trying to rationalize, trying to convince herself that — maybe — they were wrong. I'm always by myself. I don't talk to anyone, I didn't feel sad when Saga or Loki or Trygve disappeared.

She was a bad daughter. She'd been an even worse son. Something wet hit her paw and she looked down, expecting more blood but saw nothing. Another tear fell. She blinked and sniffled and turned away.

She'd never had a family who loved her before.

Deep breaths. She took one. Then another, and another. Then she laughed again, dry, humorless, but more lighthearted than the last. I don't think you can. Bragi didn't even know how to help herself. She couldn't ask anyone else to take on such an impossible task.

For now she just looked down at her paws and took deep breaths and tried to calm down.

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