She's going to make them all pay.

Her teeth gnash as she storms towards the edge of the island. Astrid's going to make the swim, leaving the island for the first time in her life, and she'll find Sindri. At least, that's how she set out. Now, the anger has turned to pain. Powerlessness. Tears. She's not going to let them see her cry, especially not Bragi, who didn't even understand the importance of this family. Sverke would take it as victory, and then she would have to rip out his eyes.

Making sure she's completely alone, she sits down and lets herself snivel. She can't let go for very long, though, because if someone sees her...

Well, they'll know she's just a girl, scared out of her mind. And she doesn't want to be that. She wants them to look at her and feel terror. She wants them to know she's bulletproof, and definitely better than them.

She'll show them all.

Of course Astrid doesn't notice her.

It's not hard to miss her, honestly. She's in a shady nook, quiet as ever, and dozing slightly. Trying not to stress about the reality of the future. It's hard when the sobs interrupt her, though, and Maja watches Astrid coolly for a few moments.

Despite her feminine appearance, Maja is not particularly comforting. And she does not particularly care to be, at least not to a loud-mouthed child that was constantly bossing her around. She debates closing her eyes and ignoring this, but her ears catch the sounds of muttering. Anger. Oh.

She approaches from the side, thinking she's in Astrid's line of sight. Coldly, she speaks; apparently this "trying to be empathetic" thing is harder than it seems. "And what's wrong with you."

She jumps out of her skin.

Where the hell did Maja come from?! Astrid's tear-streaked face goes from pained to enraged in a moment. "You think that's any of your business?!" she snaps, baring her fangs. "Get lost."

Maja doesn't even flinch as Astrid snarls at her. Astrid thinks she can do this to everyone, and in part, what she's after is a response. Maja has noted this, and she stares straight through the golden-furred girl with a sort of impassive heartlessness that would hopefully cut this attitude down.

"It's not my business." She doesn't add that she doesn't particularly care. That's giving Astrid ammo. Instead she shrugs and goes, "Okay." And with that, she turns. She tried.

And like that, Maja listens.

Astrid hates her. Screaming, she lunges at Maja's back. Her fangs find easy purchase on the girl's turned back, and she tastes blood as she bites down. She hopes it hurts. She hopes it gets infected. She hopes--

And in the next minute, she's on her back, Maja's paw on her throat, lavender eyes staring down at her.

Well, she probably should have expected that. Guess Astrid's not only talk. Blood pools from the shallow bite, pulling hard as Maja lunges forwards, using her greater mass to flip Astrid over her back. She doesn't give Astrid a moment to recover; in an instant, Maja's paw is on her throat. And she presses down hard.

A thought occurs. She could kill Astrid, probably. It'd be easy. Perhaps too easy. She listens to the sound of the other girl choking for a few moments, then lightens her press. As Astrid sucks in air, Maja keeps staring at her. No words.

Give her nothing. Give no ground. Astrid's domain is words, and Maja won't fight her there.

She sees stars.

And then, the air is back. She fills her lungs, scrambling slightly under Maja's great weight. She forgets that Maja had been at the same hunting lessons, the same fighting lessons-- perhaps even more intensive than theirs, given her older age. And Maja's not exactly a small thing; she's a big, fat fuck, and she's more than capable of crushing a windpipe with her body weight alone.

Astrid gasps for air a few more times, her teeth gnashing, her eyes unfocusing. And then the tears come again, pathetic and hateful and enraged. Even as Maja steps back, she doesn't get up. She curls onto her side and sobs.

Rubbing salt in the wound is tempting. But no, Astrid's a mess, and honestly, Maja isn't going to raise a fuss about this. She's one of the God-King's daughters, and Maja's not going to be the reason she loses status. Maja takes a few steps back and sits, watching Astrid sob with a detached gaze.

She'll find someone to clean her wound in a bit. The blood is disgusting, but she's felt worse pain.

---

His sense of smell was keen, his attention often drawn to it in lieu of his sight as a distraction. Cupid followed the trail his daughter had taken through the woods, toward the sea. He wanted to take a moment to catch his breath, instead forced to take shallow sips of air as his terror squeezed his ribs tighter, then tighter still. He wanted to take a moment to process this anger and fear within him, let it pass, lest he say or do something he couldn't take back. Something he'd regret.

What the fuck was he doing? Who in the world had thought him fit to bring children into the world, to raise them? Was everything he'd done a misstep? Had he doomed his pups to falling victim to the same cycles of unfortunate fate that had once befallen him?

Why had Freya left him, here, alone? She'd said she'd be there for him. But she'd left him here alone, lost, and taken Cupid's mischief with her. It'd just been him and Tyr, and now, Tyr was gone too. Maybe he'd return. Maybe not.

Cupid followed Astrid's trail, but he wasn't sure he should.

As he walked, he tried to pocket his emotions for later. They weren't for Astrid to manage, and they weren't meant to be inflicted upon her either. He did need to ensure she was safe, and they had a serious conversation about some of her reactions.

The anger she wielded was so righteous, and he knew that was his fault - she got it from him, he just knew how to hide it and temper it.

He stepped onto the beach, and felt another pang of concern - had Astrid decided to cross, already? He'd told her she wasn't fucking going....

Cupid inhaled, the brine stink of the sea scrubbing the cloying anger clean from his lungs. He held the breath for a moment, sightless eyes shut against the world, before exhaling. Another inhale, and he realized blood was on the air along with Astrid's scent, and a distant hiccupping sob.

Fuck, Astrid. ASTRID? The father trotted forward to try to close the gap, eventually realizing there was another scent on the beach. He wasn't sure who the blood belonged to. Selfishly, he hoped it was the other girl. He knew the thought was awful, but didn't quite feel guilty for it yet.

「 Skill Point ― Sadist 」

He was not aware of the shitstorm happening on the island. All he knew was that dad had left to chase after another one of that courtesan's children and hadn't returned home. Sverke was pressed by it, and on some level, Asgeir was too. But he knew his father was tough as nails, so it didn't faze him. That child, though? A gonner for sure if Tyr hadn't found her yet.

The boy snorted slightly at the thought. Though it wasn't amusing, it was more a matter of fact. Deep down, DEEEP down, Asgeir might've given a shit to know that the bastard child had died, they were family after all, in that weird twisted way he supposed. He wasn't sure if Dad was the father of that one, but the others seemed to be more convincing.

On that thought, Asgeir heard a shriek. It sounded much like the courtesan and not at all very good. Curiosity often killed the cat but in walked Asgeir, fearless as he peered across the distance at the shit going down. As he got closer, he realised the blonde girl was on the floor.... crying? He couldn't help the smirk that appeared on his maw.

Oh my god, this is great. he blatantly ignored Cupid, cirling around the blonde girl to get a better look at her face.

You? Crying? What a sight. It's made my day, really. he began to laugh, feeling his cheeks begin to hurt and his own eyes water.