Everything felt so fragile and sharp between them, a humming promise of catastrophe in the air. The gulf between them was one of his own making, Jigano knew, but that didn't make it any easier for him to admit it. He and Kiada had already argued once, the caracal following him when he had been in no place to bow to her whims... but he had made the choice to come to the bakery today, knowing how things would likely go thanks to the Harpy's sharp words and growls, and he drew an unsteady breath, trying to steel himself against the distance in the eyes of the woman he called sister.
"I was," he said simply. "Rory looked for me, too, but..." he shook his head, looking briefly towards the garden where Isuma played, throat tightening on the admission. He, who was a keeper of memories, did not know how to admit that he had lost so many. Still, if any would understand the weight of it, it would be one of the Loreseekers. "I fell asleep in the farmhouse, sick. With a fever. I woke up in the Glade nearly a week later, shifted into my fox form. I don't... know how I got there, or what happened in between. I only know how much time had passed because Rory told me how long I'd been missing." He rubbed his gloved hands together uneasily, then shook his head to try and dispel the frightening sense of powerlessness he had felt upon regaining consciousness and realizing he had lost time. "It doesn't matter." Only someone with an animal's nose could have found him sooner, and who would think to look for him like that, if they thought he was only sulking? "Thank you... for coming to the farm," he bit back the 'at least', knowing it was petty and that he wanted to snap and snarl like he had at Kiada but--
No. He had to police his temper now more than he ever had before. Any spark he let through could spark a blaze he'd quickly lose control of, and he had caused enough damage already.
"I was," he said simply. "Rory looked for me, too, but..." he shook his head, looking briefly towards the garden where Isuma played, throat tightening on the admission. He, who was a keeper of memories, did not know how to admit that he had lost so many. Still, if any would understand the weight of it, it would be one of the Loreseekers. "I fell asleep in the farmhouse, sick. With a fever. I woke up in the Glade nearly a week later, shifted into my fox form. I don't... know how I got there, or what happened in between. I only know how much time had passed because Rory told me how long I'd been missing." He rubbed his gloved hands together uneasily, then shook his head to try and dispel the frightening sense of powerlessness he had felt upon regaining consciousness and realizing he had lost time. "It doesn't matter." Only someone with an animal's nose could have found him sooner, and who would think to look for him like that, if they thought he was only sulking? "Thank you... for coming to the farm," he bit back the 'at least', knowing it was petty and that he wanted to snap and snarl like he had at Kiada but--
No. He had to police his temper now more than he ever had before. Any spark he let through could spark a blaze he'd quickly lose control of, and he had caused enough damage already.
