Chase the fear away

Despite her protestations and demands for Arcturus to go back to sleep, her annoying big brother instead got up from beside her. She heard him begin to move to her head, then felt his paws begin to pry hers away from her hidden face. She grumbled in protest, but he was stronger than her and managed to pull her tiny feet away from her head, forcing her to blink through tear-blurred eyes up at him. She scowled, but her heart wasn't in it, and it came out more like a sad pout instead of an intimidating glare. She sniffled a few times, trying to stop the tears from cutting through the fur on her cheeks, but it was impossible. Bit by bit, Arc began to uncurl her tiny balled-up body so he could pull her into a snuggle against him.

Satira wanted to resist, to kick and push him away, but she didn't. Instead, she let herself bury her face away in his excessive poofy fur on his chest while he curled his body protectively around hers. With their size difference even at this age, she fit snugly against him like a puzzle piece as he guarded her. Tira sniffled again, trying to keep herself from sobbing and getting his fur messy as well, but a few stray tears managed to escape her bleary eyes. Hidden in the white and gold fluff of his chest, Satira sank into the warmth and security he offered her, her brother's familiar scent and voice soothing away the churning fear in her belly. He whispered soft nothings to her, trying to calm her down, and it worked. She was no longer alone and gradually the fear began to fade into a distant dark memory.

They were quiet for some time, Tira just listening to the storm outside and Arc's heartbeat from where one of her floppy ears was resting against his chest. The steady beating rhythm helped keep her breathing even and her body relaxed in his embrace. Arc asked if she wanted to talk about it. She didn't—she really, really didn't. She didn't want to tell him about how she'd nearly died or how she'd failed to help their mother or even protect herself or how she wasn't worthy to be a Fatalis. But she did anyway. "I'm sorry I woke you up..." she said again more quietly against his chest, tiny paws gripping at his fluffy fur for stability. "Arc... would you be sad if I died...?" She didn't look up at him, unwilling to pull herself away from her brother, but the words had been put out there. If Asla hadn't mentioned what had happened to her to him, he was about to find out.

"Satira Fatalis"