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renferretA phone call with a daughter, an encounter with her mother, and then a sibling reunion.
Light of Freedom pages: Brring, or whatever your phone does.
Chandini pages: Er. She's calling you in homid. Honest. It won't be /that/ incoherent.
You paged Chandini with 'After a few seconds, the phone picks up. "Mmmyeah?" Mouse's voice.'.
Chandini pages: The voice on the other end says, "Mouseji?" in a tone so slurred as to be almost unrecognizable, though the title is, of course, a dead give-away.
You paged Chandini with 'S'me," Mouse replies. A beat, and then she asks, "You drunk?"'.
Chandini pages: The voice hesitates. "Drunk?" she repeats, as though she has never heard the word, which almost certainly isn't the case. "Nay--no. Chandini hoon. Main--main---" Before this, Chandini has spoken in broken thoughts and sentence fragments plenty of times, but it's usually impulsivity, or a search for the right word in English, or just a search for the right word. This time, she sounds like a clock that has run down. "Angrezi. English," she reminds herself. "I got hurt. I am...am...tonight. My watch. But I don't think I can come. I can't...walk. I wanted...will you tell someone? Sorry, yeah?" She sounds numb, like cold-bitten fingers struggling to manipulate the intricate mechanisms of a simple thought.
Long distance to Chandini: Mouse seems rather more alert now. "Hurt? What happened? More ooze banes, or...?" That 'or' is rather weighted.
From afar, Chandini sighs. "Jananii thi. Mausumi." She pauses, then says rather wistfully, "I would have liked banes." She seems to be coming into focus more, but she still sounds blunted and bone-tired.
You paged Chandini with 'There's a pause, and Mouse's next words are quieter, tighter. "I'll tell someone. What happened?"'.
Chandini pages: Another sigh. "I was stupid. She found me when I was out running. I thought...I thought she would talk...she did before, and she did talk, but then." She stops, starts again. "I waited too long to run." There is a rustle, and then a quick, indrawn breath, then a pause. "Mouseji?"
Long distance to Chandini: Mouse is very quiet until that last inquiry. "Yeah?"
Chandini pages: Chandini hesitates again. "I told...I told bhaiya I would be there. Tonight. If--when I'm not there, I think he'll think it's because of him. But I...I don't...I don't want him to know I'm hurt like this. He'll...be upset."
Long distance to Chandini: Mouse grunts. "Well, that's a catch. He's going to want to know why."
Chandini pages: A long pause. "Yeah." Apparently, the girl doesn't have any suggestions.
You paged Chandini with 'I think," Mouse says slowly, "He's going to be upset regardless. So I think the decision is which bit to be upset about."'.
Chandini pages: Exhausted, Chandini says, "Yeah," again. And then, "I guess...truth is better. You decide. You're--he...you decide. Please. But tell him I would have come."
You paged Chandini with 'I'll tell him that," Mouse promises. "You going to be alright?"'.
Chandini pages: What?" the girl asks. Then, "Oh. Yeah. I just. But Stolen...Charlene...cleaned everything." She is silent again for a moment and then adds, in a small voice, "I passed out. I thought she would kill me, but she didn't. So. I will be all right. Only, nothing works right, right now."
You paged Chandini with 'Silence again. And then a simple, "Okay."'.
Chandini pages: There is a fumbling gratitude in Chandini's voice. "Okay? Right. Okay." There is a sound of clumsy handling on the phone, and then Chandini's voice come back again for a belated addendum: "Thank you." Then she closes the phone.
-----
It's getting on to evening, and it's a balmy day out. So the Indian woman just coming out of Charlie's, in shirt sleeves and jeans, black hair highlighted against blue sky, is not so out of place.
Coincidence or not, Mouse is out on patrol. Or at least, she's walking purposefully, and paying attention to her surroundings, though her expression is withdrawn and agitated. She's across the street and a little ways down from the tavern as the woman exits.
It's just barely possible that the woman's favoring her right shoulder a bit. But as she looks around, brows furrowing slightly at the occasional panhandler, sidestepping one adroitly as she heads down the sidewalk toward the tenement, at a leisurely pace, it's rather hard to tell.
If it weren't for her direction, it's unlikely Mouse, vigilant as she might be trying to be, would have noticed her. But that turn toward the Tenement draws her attention just for a moment--and just long enough for the Walker Theurge to note her appearance. She stops, one eye squinting a little more narrowly than the other, and then moves to step across the street when traffic is clear, trailing behind the unknown woman.
The woman doesn't actually stop in front of the Tenement. She merely regards it as she passes, noting features, and most distinctly slowing down.
Mouse slows only a little, which helps in closing some the distance between them during that period of study. Her hands are shoved unceremoniously into the pockets of her jacket, and by this point, her jaw has set tightly.
The woman never does quite stop. She merely observes some more, and then her pace picks up a bit. Soon enough, she's turning into the nearby alley.
Mouse keeps a certain amount of distance, but not as much as might be wise, and as she starts to turn, the Theurge ventures an experimental call, "Mausumi!"
There's only the slightest of hitches in her gait at the call. She gets further into the alley, though she's still moderately visible from the street, and then she turns, one eyebrow raising.
Mouse stops near the alley's entrance, her eyes a bit narrower. She's not doing as well as she usually does at visibly hiding her temper--it's there, prickling around the edges of her otherwise tense but placid expression. She's a little slow to speak again, though after a pause she does. "What'd you do to Chandini?"
As is traditional, she fails to answer the question. "We have not been introduced," the woman says, voice smooth with the accent of her homeland, a low alto. "To whom am I speaking?" (She herself is not at all irritable. She is, however, coursing with the rage that is her birthright, just slightly under her skin. It is not, currently, fully awake.)
"Formally," Mouse replies, "No. My name's Mouse. I can be more formal if you really want, if you confirm who you are, though I'm not sure it matters too much."
Her expression does not sour, but somehow, despite her not moving appreciably, her attitude becomes more supercilious, more arrogant. "Ah. The metis." There's a pregnant pause. "The metis elder." (It's said as if this is a very polite insult.) "How is it that I can help you, again?"
Bizarrely, a faint smile actually crosses Mouse's features. It might, /might/, be just the slightest bit smug, but that also might just be some trick of the evening light. "That's me, yes. I'm elder of the Glass Walkers here." She hesitates, and then rolls her shoulders back just a little, and the smile fades. "I have a few complaints."
"Pleased. I am a visitor to your lands. I believe you know who I am." She pauses, looking around thoughtfully, and then back to Mouse. "You do have a thriving tribe," she says, as if Mouse hadn't even mentioned complaints. "In a Sept which has so many of the traditional tribes of old, it must be interesting and difficult, keeping your group of citydwellers going against the tides of Sept and of the Triat."
"I do," Mouse says, shifting her weight just slightly back onto one heel. "And it is, but the tides of the Sept move in mostly the same direction. We just have different ways of going that way. And," she says, calmly, rather patiently now, "I have some complaints, Mausumi."
Conversationally, Mausumi nods. "It can be seen that way. I simply hope you don't make enemies, due to those convictions. Sometimes others see the ripples of the tide moving in other directions."
Mouse continues to lean back on one heel, though this time, she doesn't give a reply. She just looks at Mausumi very expectantly.
"And you are my son's Elder, after all." (She's just as tall as Mouse is, but somehow, there's the sensation of her looking down her nose at her.) "For you to over-reach, as I worry you might, would hurt him." A tendril of Mausumi's hair falls out of its confinement and onto her neck, but she seems not to notice.
"What's funny is," Mouse says in a fashion that seems very polite and delicate for her words, "I was thinking of saying a similar thing in regards to you."
"I?" She sounds confused, surprised, even concerned. "I would never hurt him, purposefully or otherwise." Her tone clearly indicates that Mouse is mistaken. If not worse.
"I have found, Mausumi," Mouse says, in the same delicate fashion, "That regardless of our desires and intentions, and regardless of our best efforts at times, we sometimes do more harm than good. For instance...whatever your intentions have been, you've violated and disrespected the territory of my tribe quite a few times now. And as my tribe is also Kavi's tribe, you've violated and disrespected /his/ territory quite a few times now."
And that rage is suddenly closer to the surface, no longer banked whatsoever. She takes one pace closer to Mouse, predatory, dangerous, her eyes fixing on Mouse's face, seeking her eyes. "He is my son. Flesh of my flesh. He wishes to speak with me. I wish to speak with him." Another pace, her eyes do not move from Mouse's face. "Therefore, we will speak."
Mouse's expression is rather suddenly stony, and her words, while they still carry that polite sort of tone, are edged with ice. Her unnatural eyes are hard. "Not," she says, enunciating carefully, "On our territory. And /not/ unless /he/ tells /me/ that he wants to speak with you."
The Fury takes another pace, gaze seeking Mouse's. Voice silky smooth, a thread of danger beneath the silk, she says, "He has told me he wishes to speak with me. Do you call your own tribemate liar?"
Mouse matches that gaze with somewhat reckless intensity. "No," she says, quieter, but with no less of a bite. "I call you a liar."
One more pace. She's almost, almost close enough to touch her now, and the rage beats off her like a furnace. It's hard for her to speak for a moment, as her brows furrow slightly more than usual. And then she merely says, voice very, very even, "He is, you see, my son. He is not your son. You do not and cannot understand." And then her expression melts a bit, as does her voice. Sympathy itself, she says, "You must wish for that bond. The bond that cannot be described, and cannot be faked." But she hasn't taken her eyes off Mouse. And they have not changed. They are still intent, feral, dangerous.
Every line of Mouse's body is rigid. Tense. Prepared. Her Rage doesn't hold a candle to Mausumi's, but it's there, cold where the Fury's is hot. "He's not my son," she agrees, and whether those words hit tender places, as they certainly must, there's no outward sign of their effect. "He's my brother."
Possibly Mouse meant it the way Mausumi takes it. Possibly not. But Mausumi stiffens; and then, too fast to stop, she backhands Mouse in a cuff not unlike those given to cubs. It is, however, far, far harder. "/You/ are not my child," she hisses, as if she has been mortally insulted.
Mouse's head jerks sharply to the side from the blow, and she actually staggers some before she settles her footing. She lifts her head, expression unchanged, though her eyes are dancing in spite of the quickly fading red mark on her cheek. "No," she agrees again. "I am most /definitely/ not." And she sounds rather thankful for that, really. "I'll take Gaia's crippling over a mother--" She breathes, reigning in sudden, sharp anger, "Who lets her tribe sisters do to her son what I /saw/ from Kavi's own /memories/ what they did to him."
Mausumi says, with a throaty regret in her voice, eyes suddenly full with unshed tears, "I could not stop them. The traditions, they were too strong. Me, a mother. Me, /his/ mother." But then her eyes narrow, those dark eyes full of pain and of regret. And anger. "But it is not /your/ place to judge me."
"Traditions?" Mouse says--sharp, incredulous, angry. "You mean the traditions you step on so gleefully to get to him here? /Those/ traditions? We both know what happened to him, Mausumi, we both know what was done. /That/ is a scar on your son that will /never/ heal, that is something that can /never/ be taken back or undone, and what does my place matter when /you/ know that /you/ stood there and did /nothing/, and yet you stand here and tell me you would never hurt him. You /have/ hurt him, you /did/ hurt him, and for the sake of traditions that are neither Gaia's nor Pegasus's. Don't use /me/ as an excuse to deny /that/."
"I told him you would not understand," she says, pityingly. Rage subsiding, and voice low, thrumming with pain, she says, "I would never, did never hurt him. But that is why he and I have more to speak of." The strength returns to her voice, and she looks at Mouse with fire in her eyes. "That is why we could make the tribe anew. Create it fresh, he and I. From the ashes of the old."
Mouse takes a step back, steadying her stance. Mausumi gets a strange look, a little baffled, a little calculating. "You can hurt someone by inaction as much as you can by action. You never /helped/ him." She takes a breath. "And he's a Glass Walker. He's never been Fury. Your tribe doesn't take men."
The fire is lost again. "They took him," she says sadly, casting her eyes to the ground. "They gave him to Bujh, and I could not follow." But then she looks up, and pins Mouse with her gaze, eyes flashing. "/They/ could not see his destiny, could not see the truth of him, simply because he was himself, and male. We, he and I, all of us, must start fresh."
"No," Mouse says, quiet now. "That time is long, long past, Mausumi. And the more you cling to it, the farther your children get from you. Like the one you crippled last night."
The woman stills for a moment, and then regards Mouse as if she were an unpleasant excrescence. "Ah. The traitor." There is a thread of sadness to her, seeping into her posture and her words. "She will survive. Had she been a true Ahroun, she would not have forced my hand. But she would not. I had such hopes, that she could redeem herself." There is a pause. "She might yet," she says, slowly. And only half to Mouse.
"Your daughter," Mouse counters, stubbornly. "Is that what you'll do to Kavi, if he upsets you? If he...forces your hand?"
The woman remains in her thoughtfulness for a moment, and then shakes it off. "Kavi-Baita will never come to harm at my hands. Never. And I have already told him I will not force his hand. But her?" She laughs, quietly. "She has much to prove to me, in days to come."
Mouse snorts. It's her turn to look disgusted now, and she doesn't bother hiding it. "You say never, but you've already turned on one of your children. You've hurt /him/ by hurting /her/." Her eyes narrow. "But since you have no intention of forcing his hand, like you say, I trust you'll stay the hell away from our territory until /if/ and /when/ you actually have permission to be there."
Something Mouse says causes Mausumi to widen those dark eyes slightly, as if a thought just struck her. She murmurs, "It is the way of the ahroun, together. It is not yours to understand." And then, at Mouse's demand, she smiles, pityingly. "I will see and speak with him when and as we have the need. Or the desire." And she turns away to resume her journey down the alley.
Mouse says, to Mausumi's departing back, in a voice that is suddenly utterly calm and icy again, "I see you have absolutely no regard for the traditions or the Litany, regardless of what you said before. If you come to my territory again without permission, we will kill you." She adds, "Good night. See you tomorrow."
Mausumi does not respond in words, but the slight shift of her posture, the sudden turn of her step from merely walking into a prowling stalk, the palpable sense of her suddenly unlealshing the predator again, says more clearly than words could ever begin to express that they can certainly /try/ to kill her. And then she turns the next corner again, and is gone.
Mouse slides her hands back into her jacket pockets again, and turns back for the tenement. And if she's whistling a bit loudly, a bit cheerfully, it's probably only coincidence that it's audible enough to the out of sight Fury. Probably.
-----
Long distance to Kavi: Mouse ring ring.
From afar, Kavi answers only after the third ring, and even after the connection is made, there's a hesitation before his voice sounds. "Hello?"
You paged Kavi with 'It's me," says Mouse's voice. There's a hint of underlying strain, but nothing alarming. "Sorry for the late notice, but Chandini wanted me to let you know she can't come tonight."'.
Kavi pages: Again, there's a long pause before Kavi answers, and his voice is small. "Oh."
Long distance to Kavi: Mouse hesitates too, and then says, "And when I say can't, I mean she actually can't, not that she doesn't want to. Mausumi tore her up, and she's healing."
Kavi pages: There is no answer from the galliard, just a sudden rush of air passing the microphone and then the jarring clatter as the phone hits the floor. It hasn't broken, at least not enough to end the connection, because a beat later the sound of a door slamming can be heard.
Tenement Building - Ground Floor(#2451RJ)
The ground floor of the apartment building is taken up mainly by the lobby, an open space with the front doors at one end and the elevator and the door leading to the stairwell at the other. The floor is covered in black and white tile in a checkerboard pattern, and the walls have been painted a neutral grey shade. Some attempt has been made to make this place more hospitable, as an old, sagging couch, an equally old and sagging armchair, and two wooden chairs have been set up in a rough semi-circle around a somewhat splintery old coffee table, facing toward the front doors and positioned so as not to interfere with any traffic moving between there and the stairs.
To the right of the main doors are mailboxes for building residents, and off to the left is the doorway into a cramped rental office (see +view), and other doors that lead to the building's large laundry room.
Contents:
Kavi
Obvious exits:
Stairs Super's Apartment Out
Mouse is standing on the steps just outside, watching the door with a considerable frown, even while she pulls a small green stone on a string from her pocket, winding the string around her fingers. Her phone's nowhere to be seen--she's apparently put it away.
It should take longer to reach the entrance from his apartment, it really should, but seconds after the clatter of the phone hitting the floor, Kavi is throwing the front door open, already breathing hard.
And as soon as that door is flung open, Mouse shoves the stone away again and rushes forward, hands up, not so much making to actually grab hold of him as to make the general motions that might suggest the same idea. "/Kavi/," she says.
One look is enough to see the tenuous hold Kavi has on the here and the now. His eyes are wide and wild, his face pale and drawn, muscles taut. The unexpected appearance of his elder startles him, pushes him closer to that edge, and he jerks to the side to avoid running into her. He doesn't stop, but he slows enough that he may as well have, and his head swings back and forth between the street and Mouse several times. "I-- Mouse-r-- I-- I have to go!"
Mouse's arms remain spread, palms out. "Yeah, yeah I know, but first, you need to stop, and breathe, or you're going to have a heart attack. She's okay. She called me, remember? So breathe. /Breathe/. And I'll give you a ride."
It isn't the directions, or the reminders that do it; it's the promise of a ride that seems to get through to Kavi enough that he can slow himself down, inside. The breath he draws isn't deep, and it isn't steady, but it shows the effort he makes. He leans out to look down the street for Mouse's car and then back to her. "Where--?"
"Breathe," Mouse says again. "And it's just down that way. Okay? Walk with me. Walk." She eases back, letting her arms fall, clearly expecting Kavi to follow suit.
Kavi swallows hard, interrupting a breath. He nods and takes a step, but there's no lessening of the tension coursing through him. He keeps his pace even with hers, though it's clear with each step that his whole body yearns to move at a pace at least three times as fast.
Mouse's car isn't very far, but she keeps a steady, almost casual pace that is no doubt completely aggravating. When she reaches the car she digs out her keys, unlocking both of their doors and sliding into the driver's seat.
Kavi climbs in, a little less graceful than he usually is, and closes the door a little harder than is absolutely necessary. He winces, but doesn't speak, keeping his impatience held tight within his balled fists.
Mouse pulls out and onto the road, and at least she's not being slow and leisurely with her driving--though she's not speeding terribly either. "You going to be okay?"
For a little while, Kavi doesn't answer, just stares out through the windshield. Finally, he turns his gaze to the side, watching the buildings and streetlights as they pass. "I don't know," he whispers, even the breath of his voice still sharp.
"You will," Mouse says with some confidence, though she then falls silent, focused on driving.
Kavi remains tense, wound tight, with no sign of it lessening, although his breathing does slow with some effort. He doesn't try to speak, only alternates looking to the front and out the passenger window. In his lap, his right hand encircles his left wrist and twists, rubbing hard against the skin.
Greek House: Common Area(#2409RAJ$)
This is the central hub of the house. From here, you can still see the entrance foyer to the west, as well as the stairway that heads to the second story. Towards the eastern side of the common area is a set of glass doors that lead out to a courtyard. To the north, an arched doorway leads to what apparently serves as a less formal lounge, with a couch and an armchair, and to the south, an arched doorway leads to what appears to be a kitchen and dining area.
There are several chairs here, simple, elegant, yet functional in their design and intent. The room has a comfortable feel to it, but is a bit ascetic in design. The walls are off-white, the molding dark cherry wood and decorated with acanthus-leaf ornamentation at the corners. A pair of antique spears are hung crossed against each other on one wall, and a wall-relief depicting a scene of Grecian warriors hangs on the other. Above the mantle of the fireplace is a small statue of Artemis, on either side of that, dark metal candlesticks with ivory pillar candles. The entire room is a study in the contrast of light and dark.
Uncharacteristically, there's a spider web in the corner of the room nearest the glass doors. Beneath it, a sign has been stuck to the wall which reads "Disturb this spider web and die - KL"
Contents:
Lefty
Charlene
Light of Freedom
Obvious exits:
Downstairs Upstairs Courtyard Out
Charlene nearly tells the wolf to 'stay here,' but that would be a little superfluous. She rises to her feet and, gingerly stepping around, heads to the back door. The porch light clicks on and she peers out, opening the door to the familiar sign of Lefty. "Hey there." she says softly. "Picked a hell of a time to visit."
Charlene steps aside to allow Lefty entrance to the Fury house....
Lefty has a grin for Charlene, but her greeting sours the expression fairly quickly. "Yeah? Why's that?" she asks, stepping inside.
"It's a twisted tale..." Charlene says after she closes the door and locks it, leading Lefty into the house proper. "I guess the first question is, how much do you know about what's been going on regardin' Chandini-rhya's mother and such?"
Lefty grunts. "I don't know. There's a plan, I guess. We'll see." The Gnawer leaves it vague, like that. She looks around, asking, "You haven't seen her or anything? Where is everyone?"
"I haven't seen Chandini's mother, but I have seen Chandini. She met up with her mother and...well, it didn't go well." Charlene looks into the lounge, to where the lupus lays. "She's fine. Healing up and no taint...just banged up pretty bad. As far as where everyone is..." A shrug. "out. KL-rhya's doing some stuff with Demon Tongue and Phoebe...tracking, I think, Melodie's being wolf mother, and Lydia's asleep downstairs. Me...I'm nursemaid tonight."
Faint sounds can be heard from outside - a car pulling into the drive followed, even before the engine dies, by a door slamming shut. Almost on top of those, comes a knock to the door; not a polite series of raps, but a solid pounding of fist against wood.
Leftytenses at the first thing Charlene says. She makes her way to the lounge, looking for the young Fury ahroun. When she spies Chandini, there's a grimace in her expression, "Aww, dude," she says, shaking her head. Just as she's about to say something else, there comes the pounding on the door, and she nearly jumps out of her skin.
By contrast, the small, bandaged wolf hardly twitches, though she lifts her head when Lefty approaches. Ferret-rhya.
"Fuckin' DFW airport 'round here." Charlene mutters at the pounding, running to the door with bare feet, peering through the peephole. One face she recognizes, the other looks familiar so, with the rattling of locks, the front door opens. "Hey. Welcome. Come in."
Kavi's gaze falls on the Fury cub for no more than a second. Brow furrowed and eyes wild, he looks past her, searching for something in the room. His whole body reads of tension, of worry and rage and fear. "Where--?" He returns to the cub with the question, but already is stepping into the house.
Mouse is right behind Kavi, and while she looks nowhere near as tense as he does, there's a certain underlying current to her expression and motions that suggests she's bottling something up. She also steps through the door with some obvious reluctance.
Lefty blinks at seeing Kavi, especially when she sees his state. "Whoa, bro," she says, holding up her hand. The Gnawer looks from him to Mouse and back again. "Let's calm down a bit." Chandini's not in immediate eyesight, but with a look from Lefty to the couch, it wouldn't be hard to figure out where she is.
Yes, the order for "No Glass Walkers" was given to Charlene at some point, but as the door is closed and locked behind her, she turns to face the new arrivals. "She's in the lounge, Kavi. She's hurt, but I got her patched up and she's healing now." The fury cub walks quietly into the room, taking a seat on the floor in the lounge, where all can hear her. Looking from face to face, she clears her throat. "I guess...hell....I'm a Galliard, so I guess it's up to me to tell you what happened."
There's a pile of bedding behind a couch in the lounge. There's a small bundle of red, gray, and cream fur and some anomalous human-style bandages half lost in a comforter.
After the immediate question is answered, Kavi pays no more attention to the cub. He moves swiftly, apparently not even hearing his own alpha as he crosses to the couch and drops to his knees. Wild eyes turn wounded, and a hand rises to cover his mouth. The first words he speaks aren't English, rapid-fire and repetative, what could sound lyrical sounds choked and tight behind his hand. Then his hand drops away, and he shifts to English, though none of the worry leaves his voice. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."
Mouse hangs far back, and as Kavi starts speaking, even before the words are understandable to her, she seems to shrink a little, looking tired and angry and generally irritable. She spares a glance for the door they just came through, but that's about it.
Lefty just stays out of the way for now. She runs her hand through her hair, lets her breath out in a quiet sigh, and just generally looks unhappy, and maybe a bit helpless.
Light of Freedom struggles to roll over onto her bandaged belly, and shoves herself about six inches closer to Kavi, where she lowers her head and sets her teeth very gently around his knee. Her ears flick back. Quit it.
Charlene laces her fingers together, sitting cross-legged on the floor. "Chandini went running, like she did every evening. It was part of her nightly routine as near as I could tell; something that helped her get to sleep and centered her in the world. She was out running when her mother came on her unexpectedly." She takes a breath. "It was quiet out there, and Chandini's mother talked. She put her hands on Chandini's face and the fury knocked them away before being knocked down herself. She spoke words, of wanting to make up for lost things, of wanting to be Chandini's mother again, all while they circled." She looks to the little bundle behind the couch. "Light of Freedom fought well. She was charged and used her gifts to fling the other back. But there was something wrong. The foe was happy. Laughing. The fight was a sign of the love they held for each other!"
"That is when the traitor struck. She tugged at Light-of-Freedom's heart by telling her these things. She stopped, Light-of-Freedom did, and refused to fight any more. She said that she would not fight until Pegasus judged the other. Not until she knew if she was sparring with a sister or killing a traitor. And then..." A look to the lupus. "She ran." The Galliard cub lets out a breath. "The traitor hamstrung her to keep her from fleeing....and then beat her to within an inch of her life. She also left a gift buried in the wound. A stone, etched with claw marks...most of them insanity, but the ones I could read were human words. "I forgive you." stained with Light of Freedom's blood." She lets out another breath. "The stone is in the courtyard if you want to see it....and that is the tale of what happened."
Light of Freedom: Point of order: there are no marks on the rock /except/ those words.
Kavi twitches, just a little, as Chandini's teeth grasp his knee. His eyes close and he takes in an unsteady breath, shaking his head. "I... Didi, I... I'm sorry. I. I am. I... I didn't... I didn't want this." He throws a single glance toward the cub, looking at her as though it were she who was speaking a foreign language, and then turns back to his sister. "I can't... I don't know how to... Didi, please. I'm sorry."
For her part, Mouse does nothing more than stare at Charlene. Her expression is slightly incredulous, but other than that, not very readable, and becoming less so by the moment. She finally jerks her attention away, glancing toward Kavi and Chandini, and then breathing in sharply.
Charlene sits quietly once the tale is finished. Her first telling as a Galliard, too. She sits and listens to the siblings, not saying a word.
Lefty listens to the story, growing angrier and more frustrated. Outwardly, her expression darkens, a frown creasing her features. There's a softly muttered curse, but she does not otherwise interrupt the siblings.
The young wolf shakes Kavi's knee with her jaws, but there's no force in it. It's like a pastel immitation of a puppy worrying a bone. She lets go, licks the knee once, and looks up at her older sibling. Her eyes are dull with exhaustion and pain, but somewhere far in the depths there's a glint of something that might almost be humor. Not anything to do with you, brother.
Kavi's lips press tight together, slowly twisting downward in a troubled frown. He meets her gaze for just a second and then blinks and looks to the bandages instead. Cautiously, as one might approach a rattlesnake, one hand reaches out to touch an unbandaged spot on the wolf's shoulder.
Mouse hunches her shoulders and mutters toward Lefty. "I met her tonight. She's not living in our reality." As she says this, she rubs her cheek, seemingly idly.
Lefty grunts, glancing Mouse's way. "Yeah, I bet." Then there's another look, this one more keen, as if she were looking Mouse over for injuries, as well. "When did you see her?"
Charlene stands and slips out to the basement, to let the elders talk. If they need her, they'll call her.
Now that she's out from under the comforter, and partway out from behind the couch, it becomes easier to see Light of Freedom's condition: there's a gouge out of her left shoulder, an almost ridiculously large bandage wrapped around her abdomen, and a mass of wound upon wound on her hind-quarters and hamstrings. She exhales as Kavi's hand comes to her uninjured shoulder and leans against the touch, eyes closing. Then they open again, and she searches the room beyond her brother, nothing moving except her eyes, until she finds Mouse.
Mouse shrugs. There's no visible injury, except perhaps, to a very keen eye, a certain stiffness around the base of her neck on one side. "Few hours ago." She's keeping her voice low. "Think'm going to wait in the car for a bit. If Kavi wants to stay, just send someone out to let me know?"
Kavi's fingers curl and flex, burying in the short fur at her shoulder. His eyes close tight for a moment, and then blink rapidly, warding off tear. "I'm sorry," he whispers again, almost too softly to hear. Following Chandini's glance, he, too, looks to his elder, his expression turning pleading. "Mouse-rhya?"
Lefty grows frustrated again. She wants details--that's clear from the way she steps toward Mouse, and almost asks for them. Kavi's voice stops her, though, and she simply waits, looking between them.
Light of Freedom has questions, too--but she, too, waits. She lets her eyes close again.
Mouse's eyes move rather slowly from Lefty to Kavi, lips thinning a bit. "Yeah, Kavi?"
"Can... can you...?" Kavi's voice is small and thin, and he doesn't manage to finish the request. His fingers curl again in Chandini's fur, tugging almost too hard for a second before he releases and pulls his hand back.
Lefty continues to look on, waiting for Mouse to acknowledge or Kavi to finish his thought.
Light of Freedom's ears swivel back as Kavi's hand leaves her shoulder. She opens her eyes to look up at him, but doesn't seem to know what to think about what she sees.
Mouse studies Kavi for a long few moments, before her gaze trails down toward Chandini. There's something--something very subtle, but there--that changes about her demeanor. Exactly what it is, isn't clear, but the Walker theurge seems somehow more tired and distant than she was a moment ago. "Yeah. Sure." She steps forward, one hand slightly lifted, though she doesn't touch the Fury yet.
Kavi watches his elder, watches that shift, and as she approaches the Fury, the galliard moves away. His frown becomes more pronounced and he pulls his lips between his teeth to halt its progress. "I'm sorry," he mutters again, though it's not clear, this time, to whom he speaks.
Lefty remains back, but she watches the exchange between the Walker elder and the young Fury.
Gaze shifting to Mouse again as she moves forward, Light of Freedom tenses very slightly. She leans backward, ears flicking wordless questions.
Mouse drops into a careful crouch nearby, with that hand still slightly raised. "Only if you want it," she says to the Fury. "It'll make tomorrow a tiny bit easier though, I would think, if some of these injuries went away."
Kavi moves back, inch by inch, until he's out of reach of both Fury and Walker. Then he glances up, for the first time, looking to his alpha.
Lefty reaches out for Kavi's shoulder, her touch light but meant to be reassuring.
Understanding dawns slowly, and the wolf leans forward again. She sniffs at Mouse, and her shoulders bunch a little. You don't mind? It's a serious inquiry, not a formality.
"No," Mouse says, and she sounds (and looks) quite sincere, though that faint something hasn't gone away. "I don't mind in the slightest. In fact, I'd very much like to."
Kavi stiffens at first, as the touch comes to his shoulder, and then, as though the strings have all been cut on a marionette, he turns and collapses against the Gnawer.
Lefty i quick to catch him, her good arm doing most of the work, but her bad one wrapping around him as well. "I gotcha," she whispers, voice soothing. "IT's gonna be ok."
Light of Freedom's head turns at Kavi's movement, not slowly but with none of her usual hypervigilance. Her muzzle dips, ears going back. She turns her head back to Mouse. Then, please.
Mouse's raised hand settles carefully, lightly in a spot that doesn't look particularly injured. Then Mouse closes her eyes, letting her head bow just a little as she calls on her gift. There's no light, no fanfare, but injuries start knitting together.
Kavi's head bows to Lefty's shoulder, and he lets her support most of his weight for a long moment before he's able to draw breath and get his legs underneath him. His voice sounds, muttered words, muffled in the small space between him and his alpha.
Lefty continues to hold him and whisper little reassurances. Her eyes are on Mouse and the Fury, even as she leans to kiss the galliard Walker on the cheek.
Light of Freedom takes a breath and then stops moving, completely focused on the changes inside her body.
Mouse is likewise motionless, keeping her hand in place until the last of her gift has been worked. Then she eases back, rocking onto her heels, and starts to push herself up. "I'm gonna be out in the car," she says, in the general direction of Kavi and Lefty.
It may or may not be related to the kiss, but Kavi pulls himself back from Lefty just after. Head bowed, he casts a sidelong glance to Mouse as she speaks, but doesn't attempt to stop her.
Lefty ducks her head as Mouse walks past. She whispers her own gratitude as the Walker elder passes, "Thanks Mouse." Then, her attention shifts back to Kavi, and then Chandini. Shifting her weight from one foot to the other, she suddenly adds, "Actually, I think I'll go get something to drink. Yeah." The Gnawer turns to head for the kitchen.
Light of Freedom opens her eyes as Mouse pulls back. She looks startled. Her ears come forward and her muzzle lifts. Thank you. Then she glances at the three garou still in the room, and shifts to her birth form, tearing the bandaging away as soon as she has hands. For a moment, while she's passing through crinos, it's possible to see that there are still lacerations on her belly and legs, but they are shallow now, and the wound on her shoulder is gone altogether. Then she is clothed, and crouched on the floor, shaking the last of the adhesive off her hands and flickering looks at the others through tangled hair.
Mouse slips out the door without another word, or a glance back, though she couldn't have failed to notice the words of thanks directed toward her.
Lefty has a small smile for the Fury, once she's in her birth-form. With a nod, she too turns to go and slips into the shadows beyond the lounge. Distantly, she can be heard opening the fridge.
The galliard watches his elder leave and then his alpha, all without lifting his head. When they're both gone, his arms wrap tight around his middle, and he stands for a long while, uncertain, unsteady, and without looking back to his sister.
Chandini stands up slowly, stiffly, with none of her usual efficiency of movement. In fact, she pushes herself up on the arm of the couch. Slowly, stiffly, she rolls her shoulders, twists her spine, stretches her arms over her head and behind her back. And finally, her voice husky, she says, "Why are you acting like this was your fault?"
Kavi turns so that he's mostly facing her, though he still doesn't look up. Fists clench beneath his jacket, arms pulling tighter still. "It is," he whispers. "It's all... It's my fault. It's... It's because of me."
Chandini starts to perch on the arm of the couch, winces, and straightens again. She looks sour, and begins to prowl the room instead, until she spots the pile of bedding behind the couch and hauls it out. "Don't I have any...any choice? Any effect on the world? Anything that happens involving me is really you?" She tucks the middle of a blanket under her chin and brings the edges together neatly.
As she moves, Kavi turns enough to keep her before him. His breathing turns ragged again, harsh in his throat. "It's. It's my fault she's here. It's my fault... It's my fault they... we... you waited. It's. It's my fault you were here and not... not... I didn't... I didn't mean to hurt you. And I did. And... And you were /here/, instead of with me, and. And I. It's my fault."
"I was going to be here anyhow, bhaiya." Chandini folds the blanket into smaller squares, her movements methodical. The glaze of pain is gone from her eyes, voice, manner, but there is still an infinite weariness; instead of crackling with energy she seems to have to concentrate just to keep moving. "It was my night to be out of the city. You may ask Leftiji. She knows. And when I am here, I run. And when I was running, she came." She sets the folded blanket down on the arm of the couch and stoops for the next. "I'm sorry you had to know about it. But you brought me healing. You came to me, and more, you came safely, with Mouseji, so I can see you without being afraid for you. I am grateful."
He listens. Head bowed, shoulders raised, and arms tight across his abdomen, he listens. And though he doesn't seem to agree, he also doesn't seem to have an argument. Then she speaks of Mouse and his chin tucks toward his shoulder, eyes closing for a long second.
It takes her a few seconds. It shouldn't, but it does. Then she looks up at him, a bloodied down throw in her hands. "Kya voh? What is it?" Her voice has just a flicker of sharpness in it, cutting into the exhaustion.
"I... I would have come... I would have come alone," Kavi admits, his voice near silent, still turned from her. "I didn't... I didn't-- couldn't think. I. I just... I had to come." He swallows, and with effort turns to look at her. "I couldn't think about... about anything else."
"Accha," she says slowly. "Well...it means something to me that you cared that much, even though it scares me. And it means something to me that you want me to know, even though you think it speaks worse of you, yeah?"
Kavi swallows again, pulling one hand up to rake back through his hair. "I... Okay." He turns, taking half a step toward the main part of the house. "Do... Do you want me to... What... What do you want?"
Chandini's face fills with so many answers to that question that not one of them can make it out her mouth. Finally she turns her head away and closes her eyes. "Lots of things," she says, reaching out, fumbling, then gripping the back of the couch for support with one hand, leaving the throw bunched in the other. "Lots of them I won't get. Maybe some I will. I want last night never to have happened. I want to be safe and talking with you, and I am, yeah? I don't know. What do you want?"
Kavi buries his face in his hands, scrubbing his eyes with the heels before pulling his hands away again. "I want... I want you to know. Even... Even though I can't... Even when I... when I'm... I want you to know. I care. I... I... It's... You're important. To me."
Chandini lowers her head, standing against the couch, letting it hold her weight. She is silent for a long time. Finally, she says, "Thank you."
While she's silent, Kavi seems to draw further inward. His arms wrap around his middle again, and his shoulders rise. Even her eventual words don't seem to impact that tension. He swallows and nods, and takes another step toward the central area.
Chandini doesn't open her eyes. "Are you leaving?"
Kavi stops, but he doesn't turn around. "Do... Do you want... If... I don't know."
"Is your Rina waiting for you?" Chandini asks.
Kavi wheels around, eyes wide in sudden terror. "I have to go. Or call. I can call her, if you want me to stay. But she. She wasn't home. I have to call. She'll think-- I dropped the phone. I just. I just left. I--"
"Chalo," Chandini says quietly. "Mouseji is waiting. She'll take you back. Chalo, chalo."
Kavi nods, and takes a step, this one backward, leaving him still facing his sister. "Didi... You said... You said you'd come. If I needed you. I... I'll come. It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter. If... If you need me, I'll always come."
Two tears slip from Chandini's closed eyes. She nods. "Chalo," she says again, her voice gone dry as the whisper of leaves.
Kavi takes another backward step, and then one more, before he turns and heads for the door. "Stay safe," he whispers, sound carrying in the still of the house. Then he slips out.
"No," Chandini says to the empty room, and folds over her hands, too tired even to cry.
Light of Freedom pages: Brring, or whatever your phone does.
Chandini pages: Er. She's calling you in homid. Honest. It won't be /that/ incoherent.
You paged Chandini with 'After a few seconds, the phone picks up. "Mmmyeah?" Mouse's voice.'.
Chandini pages: The voice on the other end says, "Mouseji?" in a tone so slurred as to be almost unrecognizable, though the title is, of course, a dead give-away.
You paged Chandini with 'S'me," Mouse replies. A beat, and then she asks, "You drunk?"'.
Chandini pages: The voice hesitates. "Drunk?" she repeats, as though she has never heard the word, which almost certainly isn't the case. "Nay--no. Chandini hoon. Main--main---" Before this, Chandini has spoken in broken thoughts and sentence fragments plenty of times, but it's usually impulsivity, or a search for the right word in English, or just a search for the right word. This time, she sounds like a clock that has run down. "Angrezi. English," she reminds herself. "I got hurt. I am...am...tonight. My watch. But I don't think I can come. I can't...walk. I wanted...will you tell someone? Sorry, yeah?" She sounds numb, like cold-bitten fingers struggling to manipulate the intricate mechanisms of a simple thought.
Long distance to Chandini: Mouse seems rather more alert now. "Hurt? What happened? More ooze banes, or...?" That 'or' is rather weighted.
From afar, Chandini sighs. "Jananii thi. Mausumi." She pauses, then says rather wistfully, "I would have liked banes." She seems to be coming into focus more, but she still sounds blunted and bone-tired.
You paged Chandini with 'There's a pause, and Mouse's next words are quieter, tighter. "I'll tell someone. What happened?"'.
Chandini pages: Another sigh. "I was stupid. She found me when I was out running. I thought...I thought she would talk...she did before, and she did talk, but then." She stops, starts again. "I waited too long to run." There is a rustle, and then a quick, indrawn breath, then a pause. "Mouseji?"
Long distance to Chandini: Mouse is very quiet until that last inquiry. "Yeah?"
Chandini pages: Chandini hesitates again. "I told...I told bhaiya I would be there. Tonight. If--when I'm not there, I think he'll think it's because of him. But I...I don't...I don't want him to know I'm hurt like this. He'll...be upset."
Long distance to Chandini: Mouse grunts. "Well, that's a catch. He's going to want to know why."
Chandini pages: A long pause. "Yeah." Apparently, the girl doesn't have any suggestions.
You paged Chandini with 'I think," Mouse says slowly, "He's going to be upset regardless. So I think the decision is which bit to be upset about."'.
Chandini pages: Exhausted, Chandini says, "Yeah," again. And then, "I guess...truth is better. You decide. You're--he...you decide. Please. But tell him I would have come."
You paged Chandini with 'I'll tell him that," Mouse promises. "You going to be alright?"'.
Chandini pages: What?" the girl asks. Then, "Oh. Yeah. I just. But Stolen...Charlene...cleaned everything." She is silent again for a moment and then adds, in a small voice, "I passed out. I thought she would kill me, but she didn't. So. I will be all right. Only, nothing works right, right now."
You paged Chandini with 'Silence again. And then a simple, "Okay."'.
Chandini pages: There is a fumbling gratitude in Chandini's voice. "Okay? Right. Okay." There is a sound of clumsy handling on the phone, and then Chandini's voice come back again for a belated addendum: "Thank you." Then she closes the phone.
-----
It's getting on to evening, and it's a balmy day out. So the Indian woman just coming out of Charlie's, in shirt sleeves and jeans, black hair highlighted against blue sky, is not so out of place.
Coincidence or not, Mouse is out on patrol. Or at least, she's walking purposefully, and paying attention to her surroundings, though her expression is withdrawn and agitated. She's across the street and a little ways down from the tavern as the woman exits.
It's just barely possible that the woman's favoring her right shoulder a bit. But as she looks around, brows furrowing slightly at the occasional panhandler, sidestepping one adroitly as she heads down the sidewalk toward the tenement, at a leisurely pace, it's rather hard to tell.
If it weren't for her direction, it's unlikely Mouse, vigilant as she might be trying to be, would have noticed her. But that turn toward the Tenement draws her attention just for a moment--and just long enough for the Walker Theurge to note her appearance. She stops, one eye squinting a little more narrowly than the other, and then moves to step across the street when traffic is clear, trailing behind the unknown woman.
The woman doesn't actually stop in front of the Tenement. She merely regards it as she passes, noting features, and most distinctly slowing down.
Mouse slows only a little, which helps in closing some the distance between them during that period of study. Her hands are shoved unceremoniously into the pockets of her jacket, and by this point, her jaw has set tightly.
The woman never does quite stop. She merely observes some more, and then her pace picks up a bit. Soon enough, she's turning into the nearby alley.
Mouse keeps a certain amount of distance, but not as much as might be wise, and as she starts to turn, the Theurge ventures an experimental call, "Mausumi!"
There's only the slightest of hitches in her gait at the call. She gets further into the alley, though she's still moderately visible from the street, and then she turns, one eyebrow raising.
Mouse stops near the alley's entrance, her eyes a bit narrower. She's not doing as well as she usually does at visibly hiding her temper--it's there, prickling around the edges of her otherwise tense but placid expression. She's a little slow to speak again, though after a pause she does. "What'd you do to Chandini?"
As is traditional, she fails to answer the question. "We have not been introduced," the woman says, voice smooth with the accent of her homeland, a low alto. "To whom am I speaking?" (She herself is not at all irritable. She is, however, coursing with the rage that is her birthright, just slightly under her skin. It is not, currently, fully awake.)
"Formally," Mouse replies, "No. My name's Mouse. I can be more formal if you really want, if you confirm who you are, though I'm not sure it matters too much."
Her expression does not sour, but somehow, despite her not moving appreciably, her attitude becomes more supercilious, more arrogant. "Ah. The metis." There's a pregnant pause. "The metis elder." (It's said as if this is a very polite insult.) "How is it that I can help you, again?"
Bizarrely, a faint smile actually crosses Mouse's features. It might, /might/, be just the slightest bit smug, but that also might just be some trick of the evening light. "That's me, yes. I'm elder of the Glass Walkers here." She hesitates, and then rolls her shoulders back just a little, and the smile fades. "I have a few complaints."
"Pleased. I am a visitor to your lands. I believe you know who I am." She pauses, looking around thoughtfully, and then back to Mouse. "You do have a thriving tribe," she says, as if Mouse hadn't even mentioned complaints. "In a Sept which has so many of the traditional tribes of old, it must be interesting and difficult, keeping your group of citydwellers going against the tides of Sept and of the Triat."
"I do," Mouse says, shifting her weight just slightly back onto one heel. "And it is, but the tides of the Sept move in mostly the same direction. We just have different ways of going that way. And," she says, calmly, rather patiently now, "I have some complaints, Mausumi."
Conversationally, Mausumi nods. "It can be seen that way. I simply hope you don't make enemies, due to those convictions. Sometimes others see the ripples of the tide moving in other directions."
Mouse continues to lean back on one heel, though this time, she doesn't give a reply. She just looks at Mausumi very expectantly.
"And you are my son's Elder, after all." (She's just as tall as Mouse is, but somehow, there's the sensation of her looking down her nose at her.) "For you to over-reach, as I worry you might, would hurt him." A tendril of Mausumi's hair falls out of its confinement and onto her neck, but she seems not to notice.
"What's funny is," Mouse says in a fashion that seems very polite and delicate for her words, "I was thinking of saying a similar thing in regards to you."
"I?" She sounds confused, surprised, even concerned. "I would never hurt him, purposefully or otherwise." Her tone clearly indicates that Mouse is mistaken. If not worse.
"I have found, Mausumi," Mouse says, in the same delicate fashion, "That regardless of our desires and intentions, and regardless of our best efforts at times, we sometimes do more harm than good. For instance...whatever your intentions have been, you've violated and disrespected the territory of my tribe quite a few times now. And as my tribe is also Kavi's tribe, you've violated and disrespected /his/ territory quite a few times now."
And that rage is suddenly closer to the surface, no longer banked whatsoever. She takes one pace closer to Mouse, predatory, dangerous, her eyes fixing on Mouse's face, seeking her eyes. "He is my son. Flesh of my flesh. He wishes to speak with me. I wish to speak with him." Another pace, her eyes do not move from Mouse's face. "Therefore, we will speak."
Mouse's expression is rather suddenly stony, and her words, while they still carry that polite sort of tone, are edged with ice. Her unnatural eyes are hard. "Not," she says, enunciating carefully, "On our territory. And /not/ unless /he/ tells /me/ that he wants to speak with you."
The Fury takes another pace, gaze seeking Mouse's. Voice silky smooth, a thread of danger beneath the silk, she says, "He has told me he wishes to speak with me. Do you call your own tribemate liar?"
Mouse matches that gaze with somewhat reckless intensity. "No," she says, quieter, but with no less of a bite. "I call you a liar."
One more pace. She's almost, almost close enough to touch her now, and the rage beats off her like a furnace. It's hard for her to speak for a moment, as her brows furrow slightly more than usual. And then she merely says, voice very, very even, "He is, you see, my son. He is not your son. You do not and cannot understand." And then her expression melts a bit, as does her voice. Sympathy itself, she says, "You must wish for that bond. The bond that cannot be described, and cannot be faked." But she hasn't taken her eyes off Mouse. And they have not changed. They are still intent, feral, dangerous.
Every line of Mouse's body is rigid. Tense. Prepared. Her Rage doesn't hold a candle to Mausumi's, but it's there, cold where the Fury's is hot. "He's not my son," she agrees, and whether those words hit tender places, as they certainly must, there's no outward sign of their effect. "He's my brother."
Possibly Mouse meant it the way Mausumi takes it. Possibly not. But Mausumi stiffens; and then, too fast to stop, she backhands Mouse in a cuff not unlike those given to cubs. It is, however, far, far harder. "/You/ are not my child," she hisses, as if she has been mortally insulted.
Mouse's head jerks sharply to the side from the blow, and she actually staggers some before she settles her footing. She lifts her head, expression unchanged, though her eyes are dancing in spite of the quickly fading red mark on her cheek. "No," she agrees again. "I am most /definitely/ not." And she sounds rather thankful for that, really. "I'll take Gaia's crippling over a mother--" She breathes, reigning in sudden, sharp anger, "Who lets her tribe sisters do to her son what I /saw/ from Kavi's own /memories/ what they did to him."
Mausumi says, with a throaty regret in her voice, eyes suddenly full with unshed tears, "I could not stop them. The traditions, they were too strong. Me, a mother. Me, /his/ mother." But then her eyes narrow, those dark eyes full of pain and of regret. And anger. "But it is not /your/ place to judge me."
"Traditions?" Mouse says--sharp, incredulous, angry. "You mean the traditions you step on so gleefully to get to him here? /Those/ traditions? We both know what happened to him, Mausumi, we both know what was done. /That/ is a scar on your son that will /never/ heal, that is something that can /never/ be taken back or undone, and what does my place matter when /you/ know that /you/ stood there and did /nothing/, and yet you stand here and tell me you would never hurt him. You /have/ hurt him, you /did/ hurt him, and for the sake of traditions that are neither Gaia's nor Pegasus's. Don't use /me/ as an excuse to deny /that/."
"I told him you would not understand," she says, pityingly. Rage subsiding, and voice low, thrumming with pain, she says, "I would never, did never hurt him. But that is why he and I have more to speak of." The strength returns to her voice, and she looks at Mouse with fire in her eyes. "That is why we could make the tribe anew. Create it fresh, he and I. From the ashes of the old."
Mouse takes a step back, steadying her stance. Mausumi gets a strange look, a little baffled, a little calculating. "You can hurt someone by inaction as much as you can by action. You never /helped/ him." She takes a breath. "And he's a Glass Walker. He's never been Fury. Your tribe doesn't take men."
The fire is lost again. "They took him," she says sadly, casting her eyes to the ground. "They gave him to Bujh, and I could not follow." But then she looks up, and pins Mouse with her gaze, eyes flashing. "/They/ could not see his destiny, could not see the truth of him, simply because he was himself, and male. We, he and I, all of us, must start fresh."
"No," Mouse says, quiet now. "That time is long, long past, Mausumi. And the more you cling to it, the farther your children get from you. Like the one you crippled last night."
The woman stills for a moment, and then regards Mouse as if she were an unpleasant excrescence. "Ah. The traitor." There is a thread of sadness to her, seeping into her posture and her words. "She will survive. Had she been a true Ahroun, she would not have forced my hand. But she would not. I had such hopes, that she could redeem herself." There is a pause. "She might yet," she says, slowly. And only half to Mouse.
"Your daughter," Mouse counters, stubbornly. "Is that what you'll do to Kavi, if he upsets you? If he...forces your hand?"
The woman remains in her thoughtfulness for a moment, and then shakes it off. "Kavi-Baita will never come to harm at my hands. Never. And I have already told him I will not force his hand. But her?" She laughs, quietly. "She has much to prove to me, in days to come."
Mouse snorts. It's her turn to look disgusted now, and she doesn't bother hiding it. "You say never, but you've already turned on one of your children. You've hurt /him/ by hurting /her/." Her eyes narrow. "But since you have no intention of forcing his hand, like you say, I trust you'll stay the hell away from our territory until /if/ and /when/ you actually have permission to be there."
Something Mouse says causes Mausumi to widen those dark eyes slightly, as if a thought just struck her. She murmurs, "It is the way of the ahroun, together. It is not yours to understand." And then, at Mouse's demand, she smiles, pityingly. "I will see and speak with him when and as we have the need. Or the desire." And she turns away to resume her journey down the alley.
Mouse says, to Mausumi's departing back, in a voice that is suddenly utterly calm and icy again, "I see you have absolutely no regard for the traditions or the Litany, regardless of what you said before. If you come to my territory again without permission, we will kill you." She adds, "Good night. See you tomorrow."
Mausumi does not respond in words, but the slight shift of her posture, the sudden turn of her step from merely walking into a prowling stalk, the palpable sense of her suddenly unlealshing the predator again, says more clearly than words could ever begin to express that they can certainly /try/ to kill her. And then she turns the next corner again, and is gone.
Mouse slides her hands back into her jacket pockets again, and turns back for the tenement. And if she's whistling a bit loudly, a bit cheerfully, it's probably only coincidence that it's audible enough to the out of sight Fury. Probably.
-----
Long distance to Kavi: Mouse ring ring.
From afar, Kavi answers only after the third ring, and even after the connection is made, there's a hesitation before his voice sounds. "Hello?"
You paged Kavi with 'It's me," says Mouse's voice. There's a hint of underlying strain, but nothing alarming. "Sorry for the late notice, but Chandini wanted me to let you know she can't come tonight."'.
Kavi pages: Again, there's a long pause before Kavi answers, and his voice is small. "Oh."
Long distance to Kavi: Mouse hesitates too, and then says, "And when I say can't, I mean she actually can't, not that she doesn't want to. Mausumi tore her up, and she's healing."
Kavi pages: There is no answer from the galliard, just a sudden rush of air passing the microphone and then the jarring clatter as the phone hits the floor. It hasn't broken, at least not enough to end the connection, because a beat later the sound of a door slamming can be heard.
Tenement Building - Ground Floor(#2451RJ)
The ground floor of the apartment building is taken up mainly by the lobby, an open space with the front doors at one end and the elevator and the door leading to the stairwell at the other. The floor is covered in black and white tile in a checkerboard pattern, and the walls have been painted a neutral grey shade. Some attempt has been made to make this place more hospitable, as an old, sagging couch, an equally old and sagging armchair, and two wooden chairs have been set up in a rough semi-circle around a somewhat splintery old coffee table, facing toward the front doors and positioned so as not to interfere with any traffic moving between there and the stairs.
To the right of the main doors are mailboxes for building residents, and off to the left is the doorway into a cramped rental office (see +view), and other doors that lead to the building's large laundry room.
Contents:
Kavi
Obvious exits:
Stairs Super's Apartment Out
Mouse is standing on the steps just outside, watching the door with a considerable frown, even while she pulls a small green stone on a string from her pocket, winding the string around her fingers. Her phone's nowhere to be seen--she's apparently put it away.
It should take longer to reach the entrance from his apartment, it really should, but seconds after the clatter of the phone hitting the floor, Kavi is throwing the front door open, already breathing hard.
And as soon as that door is flung open, Mouse shoves the stone away again and rushes forward, hands up, not so much making to actually grab hold of him as to make the general motions that might suggest the same idea. "/Kavi/," she says.
One look is enough to see the tenuous hold Kavi has on the here and the now. His eyes are wide and wild, his face pale and drawn, muscles taut. The unexpected appearance of his elder startles him, pushes him closer to that edge, and he jerks to the side to avoid running into her. He doesn't stop, but he slows enough that he may as well have, and his head swings back and forth between the street and Mouse several times. "I-- Mouse-r-- I-- I have to go!"
Mouse's arms remain spread, palms out. "Yeah, yeah I know, but first, you need to stop, and breathe, or you're going to have a heart attack. She's okay. She called me, remember? So breathe. /Breathe/. And I'll give you a ride."
It isn't the directions, or the reminders that do it; it's the promise of a ride that seems to get through to Kavi enough that he can slow himself down, inside. The breath he draws isn't deep, and it isn't steady, but it shows the effort he makes. He leans out to look down the street for Mouse's car and then back to her. "Where--?"
"Breathe," Mouse says again. "And it's just down that way. Okay? Walk with me. Walk." She eases back, letting her arms fall, clearly expecting Kavi to follow suit.
Kavi swallows hard, interrupting a breath. He nods and takes a step, but there's no lessening of the tension coursing through him. He keeps his pace even with hers, though it's clear with each step that his whole body yearns to move at a pace at least three times as fast.
Mouse's car isn't very far, but she keeps a steady, almost casual pace that is no doubt completely aggravating. When she reaches the car she digs out her keys, unlocking both of their doors and sliding into the driver's seat.
Kavi climbs in, a little less graceful than he usually is, and closes the door a little harder than is absolutely necessary. He winces, but doesn't speak, keeping his impatience held tight within his balled fists.
Mouse pulls out and onto the road, and at least she's not being slow and leisurely with her driving--though she's not speeding terribly either. "You going to be okay?"
For a little while, Kavi doesn't answer, just stares out through the windshield. Finally, he turns his gaze to the side, watching the buildings and streetlights as they pass. "I don't know," he whispers, even the breath of his voice still sharp.
"You will," Mouse says with some confidence, though she then falls silent, focused on driving.
Kavi remains tense, wound tight, with no sign of it lessening, although his breathing does slow with some effort. He doesn't try to speak, only alternates looking to the front and out the passenger window. In his lap, his right hand encircles his left wrist and twists, rubbing hard against the skin.
Greek House: Common Area(#2409RAJ$)
This is the central hub of the house. From here, you can still see the entrance foyer to the west, as well as the stairway that heads to the second story. Towards the eastern side of the common area is a set of glass doors that lead out to a courtyard. To the north, an arched doorway leads to what apparently serves as a less formal lounge, with a couch and an armchair, and to the south, an arched doorway leads to what appears to be a kitchen and dining area.
There are several chairs here, simple, elegant, yet functional in their design and intent. The room has a comfortable feel to it, but is a bit ascetic in design. The walls are off-white, the molding dark cherry wood and decorated with acanthus-leaf ornamentation at the corners. A pair of antique spears are hung crossed against each other on one wall, and a wall-relief depicting a scene of Grecian warriors hangs on the other. Above the mantle of the fireplace is a small statue of Artemis, on either side of that, dark metal candlesticks with ivory pillar candles. The entire room is a study in the contrast of light and dark.
Uncharacteristically, there's a spider web in the corner of the room nearest the glass doors. Beneath it, a sign has been stuck to the wall which reads "Disturb this spider web and die - KL"
Contents:
Lefty
Charlene
Light of Freedom
Obvious exits:
Downstairs Upstairs Courtyard Out
Charlene nearly tells the wolf to 'stay here,' but that would be a little superfluous. She rises to her feet and, gingerly stepping around, heads to the back door. The porch light clicks on and she peers out, opening the door to the familiar sign of Lefty. "Hey there." she says softly. "Picked a hell of a time to visit."
Charlene steps aside to allow Lefty entrance to the Fury house....
Lefty has a grin for Charlene, but her greeting sours the expression fairly quickly. "Yeah? Why's that?" she asks, stepping inside.
"It's a twisted tale..." Charlene says after she closes the door and locks it, leading Lefty into the house proper. "I guess the first question is, how much do you know about what's been going on regardin' Chandini-rhya's mother and such?"
Lefty grunts. "I don't know. There's a plan, I guess. We'll see." The Gnawer leaves it vague, like that. She looks around, asking, "You haven't seen her or anything? Where is everyone?"
"I haven't seen Chandini's mother, but I have seen Chandini. She met up with her mother and...well, it didn't go well." Charlene looks into the lounge, to where the lupus lays. "She's fine. Healing up and no taint...just banged up pretty bad. As far as where everyone is..." A shrug. "out. KL-rhya's doing some stuff with Demon Tongue and Phoebe...tracking, I think, Melodie's being wolf mother, and Lydia's asleep downstairs. Me...I'm nursemaid tonight."
Faint sounds can be heard from outside - a car pulling into the drive followed, even before the engine dies, by a door slamming shut. Almost on top of those, comes a knock to the door; not a polite series of raps, but a solid pounding of fist against wood.
Leftytenses at the first thing Charlene says. She makes her way to the lounge, looking for the young Fury ahroun. When she spies Chandini, there's a grimace in her expression, "Aww, dude," she says, shaking her head. Just as she's about to say something else, there comes the pounding on the door, and she nearly jumps out of her skin.
By contrast, the small, bandaged wolf hardly twitches, though she lifts her head when Lefty approaches. Ferret-rhya.
"Fuckin' DFW airport 'round here." Charlene mutters at the pounding, running to the door with bare feet, peering through the peephole. One face she recognizes, the other looks familiar so, with the rattling of locks, the front door opens. "Hey. Welcome. Come in."
Kavi's gaze falls on the Fury cub for no more than a second. Brow furrowed and eyes wild, he looks past her, searching for something in the room. His whole body reads of tension, of worry and rage and fear. "Where--?" He returns to the cub with the question, but already is stepping into the house.
Mouse is right behind Kavi, and while she looks nowhere near as tense as he does, there's a certain underlying current to her expression and motions that suggests she's bottling something up. She also steps through the door with some obvious reluctance.
Lefty blinks at seeing Kavi, especially when she sees his state. "Whoa, bro," she says, holding up her hand. The Gnawer looks from him to Mouse and back again. "Let's calm down a bit." Chandini's not in immediate eyesight, but with a look from Lefty to the couch, it wouldn't be hard to figure out where she is.
Yes, the order for "No Glass Walkers" was given to Charlene at some point, but as the door is closed and locked behind her, she turns to face the new arrivals. "She's in the lounge, Kavi. She's hurt, but I got her patched up and she's healing now." The fury cub walks quietly into the room, taking a seat on the floor in the lounge, where all can hear her. Looking from face to face, she clears her throat. "I guess...hell....I'm a Galliard, so I guess it's up to me to tell you what happened."
There's a pile of bedding behind a couch in the lounge. There's a small bundle of red, gray, and cream fur and some anomalous human-style bandages half lost in a comforter.
After the immediate question is answered, Kavi pays no more attention to the cub. He moves swiftly, apparently not even hearing his own alpha as he crosses to the couch and drops to his knees. Wild eyes turn wounded, and a hand rises to cover his mouth. The first words he speaks aren't English, rapid-fire and repetative, what could sound lyrical sounds choked and tight behind his hand. Then his hand drops away, and he shifts to English, though none of the worry leaves his voice. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."
Mouse hangs far back, and as Kavi starts speaking, even before the words are understandable to her, she seems to shrink a little, looking tired and angry and generally irritable. She spares a glance for the door they just came through, but that's about it.
Lefty just stays out of the way for now. She runs her hand through her hair, lets her breath out in a quiet sigh, and just generally looks unhappy, and maybe a bit helpless.
Light of Freedom struggles to roll over onto her bandaged belly, and shoves herself about six inches closer to Kavi, where she lowers her head and sets her teeth very gently around his knee. Her ears flick back. Quit it.
Charlene laces her fingers together, sitting cross-legged on the floor. "Chandini went running, like she did every evening. It was part of her nightly routine as near as I could tell; something that helped her get to sleep and centered her in the world. She was out running when her mother came on her unexpectedly." She takes a breath. "It was quiet out there, and Chandini's mother talked. She put her hands on Chandini's face and the fury knocked them away before being knocked down herself. She spoke words, of wanting to make up for lost things, of wanting to be Chandini's mother again, all while they circled." She looks to the little bundle behind the couch. "Light of Freedom fought well. She was charged and used her gifts to fling the other back. But there was something wrong. The foe was happy. Laughing. The fight was a sign of the love they held for each other!"
"That is when the traitor struck. She tugged at Light-of-Freedom's heart by telling her these things. She stopped, Light-of-Freedom did, and refused to fight any more. She said that she would not fight until Pegasus judged the other. Not until she knew if she was sparring with a sister or killing a traitor. And then..." A look to the lupus. "She ran." The Galliard cub lets out a breath. "The traitor hamstrung her to keep her from fleeing....and then beat her to within an inch of her life. She also left a gift buried in the wound. A stone, etched with claw marks...most of them insanity, but the ones I could read were human words. "I forgive you." stained with Light of Freedom's blood." She lets out another breath. "The stone is in the courtyard if you want to see it....and that is the tale of what happened."
Kavi twitches, just a little, as Chandini's teeth grasp his knee. His eyes close and he takes in an unsteady breath, shaking his head. "I... Didi, I... I'm sorry. I. I am. I... I didn't... I didn't want this." He throws a single glance toward the cub, looking at her as though it were she who was speaking a foreign language, and then turns back to his sister. "I can't... I don't know how to... Didi, please. I'm sorry."
For her part, Mouse does nothing more than stare at Charlene. Her expression is slightly incredulous, but other than that, not very readable, and becoming less so by the moment. She finally jerks her attention away, glancing toward Kavi and Chandini, and then breathing in sharply.
Charlene sits quietly once the tale is finished. Her first telling as a Galliard, too. She sits and listens to the siblings, not saying a word.
Lefty listens to the story, growing angrier and more frustrated. Outwardly, her expression darkens, a frown creasing her features. There's a softly muttered curse, but she does not otherwise interrupt the siblings.
The young wolf shakes Kavi's knee with her jaws, but there's no force in it. It's like a pastel immitation of a puppy worrying a bone. She lets go, licks the knee once, and looks up at her older sibling. Her eyes are dull with exhaustion and pain, but somewhere far in the depths there's a glint of something that might almost be humor. Not anything to do with you, brother.
Kavi's lips press tight together, slowly twisting downward in a troubled frown. He meets her gaze for just a second and then blinks and looks to the bandages instead. Cautiously, as one might approach a rattlesnake, one hand reaches out to touch an unbandaged spot on the wolf's shoulder.
Mouse hunches her shoulders and mutters toward Lefty. "I met her tonight. She's not living in our reality." As she says this, she rubs her cheek, seemingly idly.
Lefty grunts, glancing Mouse's way. "Yeah, I bet." Then there's another look, this one more keen, as if she were looking Mouse over for injuries, as well. "When did you see her?"
Charlene stands and slips out to the basement, to let the elders talk. If they need her, they'll call her.
Now that she's out from under the comforter, and partway out from behind the couch, it becomes easier to see Light of Freedom's condition: there's a gouge out of her left shoulder, an almost ridiculously large bandage wrapped around her abdomen, and a mass of wound upon wound on her hind-quarters and hamstrings. She exhales as Kavi's hand comes to her uninjured shoulder and leans against the touch, eyes closing. Then they open again, and she searches the room beyond her brother, nothing moving except her eyes, until she finds Mouse.
Mouse shrugs. There's no visible injury, except perhaps, to a very keen eye, a certain stiffness around the base of her neck on one side. "Few hours ago." She's keeping her voice low. "Think'm going to wait in the car for a bit. If Kavi wants to stay, just send someone out to let me know?"
Kavi's fingers curl and flex, burying in the short fur at her shoulder. His eyes close tight for a moment, and then blink rapidly, warding off tear. "I'm sorry," he whispers again, almost too softly to hear. Following Chandini's glance, he, too, looks to his elder, his expression turning pleading. "Mouse-rhya?"
Lefty grows frustrated again. She wants details--that's clear from the way she steps toward Mouse, and almost asks for them. Kavi's voice stops her, though, and she simply waits, looking between them.
Light of Freedom has questions, too--but she, too, waits. She lets her eyes close again.
Mouse's eyes move rather slowly from Lefty to Kavi, lips thinning a bit. "Yeah, Kavi?"
"Can... can you...?" Kavi's voice is small and thin, and he doesn't manage to finish the request. His fingers curl again in Chandini's fur, tugging almost too hard for a second before he releases and pulls his hand back.
Lefty continues to look on, waiting for Mouse to acknowledge or Kavi to finish his thought.
Light of Freedom's ears swivel back as Kavi's hand leaves her shoulder. She opens her eyes to look up at him, but doesn't seem to know what to think about what she sees.
Mouse studies Kavi for a long few moments, before her gaze trails down toward Chandini. There's something--something very subtle, but there--that changes about her demeanor. Exactly what it is, isn't clear, but the Walker theurge seems somehow more tired and distant than she was a moment ago. "Yeah. Sure." She steps forward, one hand slightly lifted, though she doesn't touch the Fury yet.
Kavi watches his elder, watches that shift, and as she approaches the Fury, the galliard moves away. His frown becomes more pronounced and he pulls his lips between his teeth to halt its progress. "I'm sorry," he mutters again, though it's not clear, this time, to whom he speaks.
Lefty remains back, but she watches the exchange between the Walker elder and the young Fury.
Gaze shifting to Mouse again as she moves forward, Light of Freedom tenses very slightly. She leans backward, ears flicking wordless questions.
Mouse drops into a careful crouch nearby, with that hand still slightly raised. "Only if you want it," she says to the Fury. "It'll make tomorrow a tiny bit easier though, I would think, if some of these injuries went away."
Kavi moves back, inch by inch, until he's out of reach of both Fury and Walker. Then he glances up, for the first time, looking to his alpha.
Lefty reaches out for Kavi's shoulder, her touch light but meant to be reassuring.
Understanding dawns slowly, and the wolf leans forward again. She sniffs at Mouse, and her shoulders bunch a little. You don't mind? It's a serious inquiry, not a formality.
"No," Mouse says, and she sounds (and looks) quite sincere, though that faint something hasn't gone away. "I don't mind in the slightest. In fact, I'd very much like to."
Kavi stiffens at first, as the touch comes to his shoulder, and then, as though the strings have all been cut on a marionette, he turns and collapses against the Gnawer.
Lefty i quick to catch him, her good arm doing most of the work, but her bad one wrapping around him as well. "I gotcha," she whispers, voice soothing. "IT's gonna be ok."
Light of Freedom's head turns at Kavi's movement, not slowly but with none of her usual hypervigilance. Her muzzle dips, ears going back. She turns her head back to Mouse. Then, please.
Mouse's raised hand settles carefully, lightly in a spot that doesn't look particularly injured. Then Mouse closes her eyes, letting her head bow just a little as she calls on her gift. There's no light, no fanfare, but injuries start knitting together.
Kavi's head bows to Lefty's shoulder, and he lets her support most of his weight for a long moment before he's able to draw breath and get his legs underneath him. His voice sounds, muttered words, muffled in the small space between him and his alpha.
Lefty continues to hold him and whisper little reassurances. Her eyes are on Mouse and the Fury, even as she leans to kiss the galliard Walker on the cheek.
Light of Freedom takes a breath and then stops moving, completely focused on the changes inside her body.
Mouse is likewise motionless, keeping her hand in place until the last of her gift has been worked. Then she eases back, rocking onto her heels, and starts to push herself up. "I'm gonna be out in the car," she says, in the general direction of Kavi and Lefty.
It may or may not be related to the kiss, but Kavi pulls himself back from Lefty just after. Head bowed, he casts a sidelong glance to Mouse as she speaks, but doesn't attempt to stop her.
Lefty ducks her head as Mouse walks past. She whispers her own gratitude as the Walker elder passes, "Thanks Mouse." Then, her attention shifts back to Kavi, and then Chandini. Shifting her weight from one foot to the other, she suddenly adds, "Actually, I think I'll go get something to drink. Yeah." The Gnawer turns to head for the kitchen.
Light of Freedom opens her eyes as Mouse pulls back. She looks startled. Her ears come forward and her muzzle lifts. Thank you. Then she glances at the three garou still in the room, and shifts to her birth form, tearing the bandaging away as soon as she has hands. For a moment, while she's passing through crinos, it's possible to see that there are still lacerations on her belly and legs, but they are shallow now, and the wound on her shoulder is gone altogether. Then she is clothed, and crouched on the floor, shaking the last of the adhesive off her hands and flickering looks at the others through tangled hair.
Mouse slips out the door without another word, or a glance back, though she couldn't have failed to notice the words of thanks directed toward her.
Lefty has a small smile for the Fury, once she's in her birth-form. With a nod, she too turns to go and slips into the shadows beyond the lounge. Distantly, she can be heard opening the fridge.
The galliard watches his elder leave and then his alpha, all without lifting his head. When they're both gone, his arms wrap tight around his middle, and he stands for a long while, uncertain, unsteady, and without looking back to his sister.
Chandini stands up slowly, stiffly, with none of her usual efficiency of movement. In fact, she pushes herself up on the arm of the couch. Slowly, stiffly, she rolls her shoulders, twists her spine, stretches her arms over her head and behind her back. And finally, her voice husky, she says, "Why are you acting like this was your fault?"
Kavi turns so that he's mostly facing her, though he still doesn't look up. Fists clench beneath his jacket, arms pulling tighter still. "It is," he whispers. "It's all... It's my fault. It's... It's because of me."
Chandini starts to perch on the arm of the couch, winces, and straightens again. She looks sour, and begins to prowl the room instead, until she spots the pile of bedding behind the couch and hauls it out. "Don't I have any...any choice? Any effect on the world? Anything that happens involving me is really you?" She tucks the middle of a blanket under her chin and brings the edges together neatly.
As she moves, Kavi turns enough to keep her before him. His breathing turns ragged again, harsh in his throat. "It's. It's my fault she's here. It's my fault... It's my fault they... we... you waited. It's. It's my fault you were here and not... not... I didn't... I didn't mean to hurt you. And I did. And... And you were /here/, instead of with me, and. And I. It's my fault."
"I was going to be here anyhow, bhaiya." Chandini folds the blanket into smaller squares, her movements methodical. The glaze of pain is gone from her eyes, voice, manner, but there is still an infinite weariness; instead of crackling with energy she seems to have to concentrate just to keep moving. "It was my night to be out of the city. You may ask Leftiji. She knows. And when I am here, I run. And when I was running, she came." She sets the folded blanket down on the arm of the couch and stoops for the next. "I'm sorry you had to know about it. But you brought me healing. You came to me, and more, you came safely, with Mouseji, so I can see you without being afraid for you. I am grateful."
He listens. Head bowed, shoulders raised, and arms tight across his abdomen, he listens. And though he doesn't seem to agree, he also doesn't seem to have an argument. Then she speaks of Mouse and his chin tucks toward his shoulder, eyes closing for a long second.
It takes her a few seconds. It shouldn't, but it does. Then she looks up at him, a bloodied down throw in her hands. "Kya voh? What is it?" Her voice has just a flicker of sharpness in it, cutting into the exhaustion.
"I... I would have come... I would have come alone," Kavi admits, his voice near silent, still turned from her. "I didn't... I didn't-- couldn't think. I. I just... I had to come." He swallows, and with effort turns to look at her. "I couldn't think about... about anything else."
"Accha," she says slowly. "Well...it means something to me that you cared that much, even though it scares me. And it means something to me that you want me to know, even though you think it speaks worse of you, yeah?"
Kavi swallows again, pulling one hand up to rake back through his hair. "I... Okay." He turns, taking half a step toward the main part of the house. "Do... Do you want me to... What... What do you want?"
Chandini's face fills with so many answers to that question that not one of them can make it out her mouth. Finally she turns her head away and closes her eyes. "Lots of things," she says, reaching out, fumbling, then gripping the back of the couch for support with one hand, leaving the throw bunched in the other. "Lots of them I won't get. Maybe some I will. I want last night never to have happened. I want to be safe and talking with you, and I am, yeah? I don't know. What do you want?"
Kavi buries his face in his hands, scrubbing his eyes with the heels before pulling his hands away again. "I want... I want you to know. Even... Even though I can't... Even when I... when I'm... I want you to know. I care. I... I... It's... You're important. To me."
Chandini lowers her head, standing against the couch, letting it hold her weight. She is silent for a long time. Finally, she says, "Thank you."
While she's silent, Kavi seems to draw further inward. His arms wrap around his middle again, and his shoulders rise. Even her eventual words don't seem to impact that tension. He swallows and nods, and takes another step toward the central area.
Chandini doesn't open her eyes. "Are you leaving?"
Kavi stops, but he doesn't turn around. "Do... Do you want... If... I don't know."
"Is your Rina waiting for you?" Chandini asks.
Kavi wheels around, eyes wide in sudden terror. "I have to go. Or call. I can call her, if you want me to stay. But she. She wasn't home. I have to call. She'll think-- I dropped the phone. I just. I just left. I--"
"Chalo," Chandini says quietly. "Mouseji is waiting. She'll take you back. Chalo, chalo."
Kavi nods, and takes a step, this one backward, leaving him still facing his sister. "Didi... You said... You said you'd come. If I needed you. I... I'll come. It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter. If... If you need me, I'll always come."
Two tears slip from Chandini's closed eyes. She nods. "Chalo," she says again, her voice gone dry as the whisper of leaves.
Kavi takes another backward step, and then one more, before he turns and heads for the door. "Stay safe," he whispers, sound carrying in the still of the house. Then he slips out.
"No," Chandini says to the empty room, and folds over her hands, too tired even to cry.
