What does one do when their world is turned upside down? They fight. Siduri was a fighter and she was an undeniable daddy's girl. So when she heard from her brother that her father had been slain by Ethne wolves, she became incensed. Both she and her mother had hightailed it out of The Hallows and began racing towards home. It didn't matter how much she hurt. It didn't matter that the wounds on her face and hips had ripped open again. All that mattered was getting home. All that mattered was getting her father's body.

Mind running rampant, Siduri snarled out as she and her mother raced along the bifrost, "Let me go. Let me challenge them. Let me dominate them! I NEED THIS!" Pinpricks of red flared within Siduri's vision and she bared her teeth. Someone would pay. Everyone would pay. Siduri wanted the world to burn and she didn't care who was caught in the wildfire.

"Siduri"

Siduri's angered yelling broke her mother's heart. Her steps faltered in the sand as they tried to get off the continent of Auster to put distance and borders between those that clearly couldn't let it go. Ethne had asked for training, what else did the leader expect to be on offer from a pack literally called Raider's Hollow. This shit had blown out of proportion. Ethne poked and poked, followed them home and expected a welcome mat, raided them back and were clearly out for blood. Despite Modesty's attempts to be the bigger wolf and let it go (she'd even asked Art to send them help), despite Gilgamesh's attempts to smooth things over. Softness and his damn lawfulness had cost him his life, and wasn't she partly to blame for that? For encouraging him to let her in to try a more political approach?

Her breath came in pants and the longer they were stationary, the greater threat there was of her emotions overcoming her. Her daughter wasn't a baby anymore, couldn't be held back by her mother. The one thing Modesty thought they had done right was teaching their kids to stand on their own four feet, to be willing to face the consequences of their actions (clearly a lesson every wolf in Ethne had missed). If her daughter wanted to be the Karma that came back to bite them, who was she to deny what might bring her daughter some peace? She knew if she said no, it would happen anyway, she would only hear about it after the fact.

"Just let me be there. I need to know..." She choked on her words. "You have my blessing to do whatever you need to. I'll always be proud of you, no matter what." She stepped closer to embrace her daughter, mindful of her opened wounds. A hollow chuckle ripped from her throat, Modesty's vision blurred with tears. "Will you at least wait until Sakana has had a chance to patch you up?"

"speech"

Unlike her mother, Siduri's head wasn't full of politics, nor was it full of the timeline of recent events. All that rattled around in the pastel fae's skull were thoughts of anger, thoughts of revenge, thoughts of Haydee and Bellamy's heads on pikes placed outside of her treehouse. She wanted to rain blood upon Ethne and everyone that called that damned place home. Her father was dead. Not a single one of them deserved to live. Old, young, they all deserved to burn.

Modesty responded to Siduri's request and, though it was reasonable, a growl bubbled up in the girl's chest. Wait? How was she supposed to wait?! Ethne hadn't waited to murder Gilgamesh, so she wouldn't wait to soak the ground in their blood. "No," was her only response. She didn't have time to let Sakana look at her. She didn't want anyone to touch her. She would rest and she would heal when revenge was hers.

With a shake of her head, Siduri tore off across the land bridge, zipping past her mother and disappearing on the other side. She needed to compose herself at least a little bit before she enacted her plan. She just needed a moment alone to breathe. "I'll avenge you, dad," the young woman whispered as she ran. It was only then that she realized the tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Siduri"

Modesty visibly flinched at Siduri's sharp No, but she held her ground and watched as her daughter fled across the bifrost, thankfully north. Despite the lump in her throat, the tattered shreds where her heart had been not all that long ago, she swallowed. The movement was painful. She wished she had the strength, the resolve, to react as her daughter had done, but Gilgamesh had been in her life so much longer than she had ever lived without him. The thought that he was gone... It was paralysing.

There was more than one way to skin a cat, or so she had heard. So once she had made it home, shared the news, given herself an opportunity to grieve, she would formulate her own plans. The pack at the falls would find themselves standing alone soon enough.

"speech"

-end?-