@Grusha does not back down, or even appear the slightest bit contrite, but then again, you don't expect her to be. Always the less diplomatic twin, that one; still, you take your role as big brother far too seriously, and as your sister snaps her teeth you do not shirk or flinch, instead opting to glare even harder, your expression a clearly conveyed Don't you talk back to me young lady! You wear the look surprisingly well. Paternal indignation was tailor-made for you.
It isn't until Tae slinks over that you break eye contact, swinging around to face your shorter sister, who at least has the decency to speak. There's something about her monotone voice and sardonic judgement that snaps you out of your anger, at least slightly. "Yer hash hard tat ezat, naqis ver," you reply sternly, but your face betrays the immense relief that bubbles at being reunited with these brats.
And brats they are. Tae shoos your traveling companions away, and you want to say something about being nice, but honestly? At least they aren't being eaten. You, in turn, give them a nod and apologetic smile - Yeah, you should listen to her - waiting for them to collect their belongings and book a fast retreat before returning your attention back to the twins. "What on earth were you thinkin', huntin' humans?" you demand, your indignation cut by exasperation. "What if you'd hurt someone? What if you got hurt? What if one of 'em was sick and you caught it, huh?" These things may not matter to the twins, but you were born with a moral compass the size of the moon, and damn if you aren't going to whack all your siblings over the head with it until they see sense.
And speaking of your siblings... you sigh, deflating slightly, as Tae asks the question on everyone's mind. As the oldest boy, you cannot help it - you carry responsibility squarely on your shoulders, and though you try to maintain optimism in the face of all things, sometime's it's hard. Your right hand runs through your voluminous hair. "I haven't seen 'em yet," and then, quickly- "But I've been tracking some of 'em, just like you. It would help if you all didn't keep running the fuck away." Your laugh comes out more of a bark - you're tired, and scared, and angry, and man, you need a drink. You lost all of them. You fucked up. But you're trying, damnit, and that has to count for something.
Except when has it, in their eyes?
Stern again, you summon the last of your anger for a final assault. Looking between them, you try your best to channel your parents and succeed only in sounding slightly less like a walking exclamation point than usual. "Look, I dunno what happened- but that doesn' mean you get to run wild and hurt innocent people. Ever. Got it, Naqis vers?" You hope you sound appropriately convincing, and that they'll even care. You're quickly running out of steam - all you want to do at this point is wrap them both in enormous hugs, and then maybe slap collars and leashes on them, because damnit, you know they're just bound to run off and do whatever they want again.
--
translation:
You're hard to find, little wolf.
Naqis vers = Little Wolves
Z E R O
don't care what it cost - no ray of sunlight's ever lost!
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