Amaris lingered. An unfortunate stubbornness that he had surely received from one of his strong-willed mothers. There was something comforting about the familiar terrain that the Respite offered, even despite the poison and filth the world seemed to deliver. This was his home. And after so many days of wandering, of walking, of delivering runes and following the disembodied voice of someone in his dreams—all Amaris wished for was to recede quietly into the darkness of his home.

Just for a little while.

But before he could do that, it appeared the Five had something else planned for him.

He smelled his older sister before his eyes had landed on her approaching silhouette, the scent of Fiora, similarly held in the wind's breath. They had sent her away, although Amaris had not held his breath for his cousin--confident that whatever ailment she had picked up would certainly kill her in due time.

As much as he hoped she’d live, that is, Amaris had figured the world would take every shred of happiness and hope they could muster. Fiora included.

But with the freshness of her scent alongside Sreda’s heels, Amaris’ brow turned, and his golden eyes briefly narrowed. Sreda? He called out skeptically into the day as his own paws hastened to cut the distance between them.

Something hung between her teeth, and for a moment, Amaris eyed that as skeptically as he eyed his sister.

Are you well? He asked instead, pausing in his strides as he waited to see if his macabre sibling would act in similarity to how they had first found Fiora.