And Justice For All

Still giddy with her success, it took a few tries for Tamsyn's words to eventually break through so that Bowen could understand. Her mom had been drying her off, but had suddenly stopped. Only Tam's paw on Bowen's cheek was able to make the girl focus. Brows furrowed as green eyes stared hard at the scarred woman. Take Resin? Oh. Bo lowered her gaze to the filthy skin that she clung to and her grip loosened. She allowed Tamsyn to take Resin's pelt from her, though her eyes remained upon it for a long while. Their mother was home again and she'd been the one to deliver. Even if Bowen didn't believe that her mother was within that skin anymore, she had needed to retrieve it. It was a matter of honor. Of principle. Knowing that the image of their own mother was bringing nightmares to Gwyn... It all needed to end and she had ended it.

Art called her, beckoning the shivering young fae to his side. Before she went to him, Bowen looked upon her terrified sister. "Gwyn, you don't have to be afraid anymore." Resin's skin was back in their possession and it would never be able to sneak up on the ebony fae again. Bo hoped that this would alleviate some of the anxiety that had held her sister in its grip since she'd returned after her attack.

A strong arm pulled her into an embrace and Bowen didn't fight it. In fact, she sank against Art, careful of his wounds, but soaking up the affections that he was lavishing upon her. There was no flare of lust this time, only the triumphant feel of accomplishment and pride. When he started nuzzling her cheek and neck though, that familiar glassiness took over her gaze and a bit of the joy in her snaked away. Ohh, too much. Too close. Art began to gently turn her head back and forth, looking for any damage that she might have sustained. Her brother's paw pads pulled away some of her blood and he grazed her injured lip. Reflexively, Bowen's tongue protruded, running over her damaged lip. In the process, it swiped across Art's bloody pad as well. She thought nothing of it, especially when he began to speak again.

Art asked if she was injured and Bowen gave a light shrug. "Nothing too bad." She'd banged into a few rocks in the river, got punched in the face, was choked, was definitely freezing, yet she had never felt more alive. "He sure does have a grip on him." Bowen joked as she raised one paw to absently rub her sore, slender neck. The fae brought her cool, viridian gaze to meet the firing depths of Artorias' eyes. "After what he did to Gwyn... After what he did to you... We just needed to win one, Torias." She couldn't kill the man who called himself their brother, but she had definitely bested him.

"Bowen"