[she doesn't know that the world is turning just for her]

skill: [none]

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Euphemia laughed a hearty chuckle at his joke, the disbelief behind a potential ulterior motive. To the shewolf, it was not a joke at all. Almost any time one of her siblings sought her out on purpose, she easily assumed someone had either disappeared, died, or – in the best case – was simply wounded. His smile immediately told her there was nothing to worry about, in ways that his words could not.

He seemed nonchalant enough about the topic at hand, more than Euphemia wished she could be. Instead, his proclamation startled her. What do you mean, not be a healer? the fae chimed, certainly he was making a jest. Don’t be silly. In Dawnbreak, it seemed that their path was born in them, and there was no changing it. Look at any of their sisters, and it was obvious.

You’re either a fighter like Father, or a healer like Mother.

Tiberii was meant to use her body, Dalmatia was meant to use her mind. It could be argued that Aurelia was both, dedicating herself to something that existed outside of Aurelia proper – leading others, democracy, all that. Eupehmia wondered silently if that was why Aurelia seemed to be constantly frustrated – because she was split down the middle, unable to fully occupy either space.

The maiden did not wish that for her sweet, tender brother. Phia laughed again, though her stomach gripped when he mentioned mother. They both had experienced the same loss, but the maiden had never wavered in her commitment to her studies. It was mother’s legacy, after all. We’re the healers. she said it as if it was obvious.

– and, was it not?

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