How it Was Supposed to Be

Scully smirked as Avella referred to herself as the 'Queen of non-planning,' recalling those scant few months that'd wondered if his sister had left them because he had somehow made her feel unwanted. That when Ragnar and Freyja came along, she felt out of place. Now he knew, she'd taken off because of how alike they are, freer spirits than fate would ever allow their parents to be. Willow Ridge wasn't enough for either of them, and that was perfectly okay. As it turned out, the whole continent hadn't been enough.

"I got not a clue what that kid can and can't do, outside of complain. I hope it's soon."

Scully figured he should probably have started teaching the kid to hunt, but he was very clearly not cut out to be a father and anything that Clouse had learned from him was strictly incidental. Her reassurance earned her a smile, genuine and even unlike his normal slate of expressions.

"Long as we can keep him alive we don't have to worry about Nin or Ellery skinning us. Guess we should figure out what the natives are like."