I don't like this any more, Dad

Alastor watched Avacyn shuffle about in the furs until she was leaning against him, shifting himself so he could protect her while also being very careful to not bump any of the mushrooms on her. He didn't want to inadvertently cause her any harm, and without any practical or safe way to remove them from his daughter's body, he was left to simply shield her and manage their symptoms, which left little for him to actually do. His heart broke for his daughter, knowing how badly it affected her. Silently, the dire brute cursed the firefly demon and this sick, fucked up world for doing this to his daughter. He didn't care what happened to himself, but how dare any force natural or paranormal try to harm his child! The next time he saw the firefly entity, he would not be as cordial as he had been.

"It's not his fault... It's yours... You failed to protect your family..."

Alastor shook his head to rid his thoughts of the voices gnawing away at his psyche. Fuck off, ghosts... Obsidian black eyes turned down to meet his princess' matching pair as they filled with tears, Ava lamenting having to be away from Manea and Saracyn. Red-tipped ears folded to his skull and Alastor breathed a heavy sigh. "I know, darling... I know. I do too," he murmured to them in the quiet of their makeshift den. A frown creased Alastor's face while he watched Avacyn sulk, glancing back up to the cave entrance and to the dark night beyond. Perhaps if he could find the firefly demon again, he'd be able to barter for his daughter's recovery. He didn't have much to offer in exchange, but he would have given anything to make her better again. Nothing made him feel more useless as a father than being unable to help his suffering child.

"That's because you are a useless father... A failure of a parent... Did you really think you could do anything good with your life...?"

Fuck OFF, ghosts!

"You mean nothing to the world... Your family doesn't need you... You only destroy... They'd be better off if you were dead..."

Alastor grit his teeth and scratched at his ear with a claw as if he could rip the voices from his own head. The taunting lyrics of his ex-fiancee twisted him up, incensed his rage, reminded him that there was nothing he could do to fix this, nothing he could do to help his daughter. I'm not a useless father... he thought with a scowl.

"Oh, no...? Your daughter is mutilating herself right now and you're not even paying attention..."

With a blink of surprise, Alastor glanced down just in time to see Avacyn grip one of the mushrooms on her legs with her leonine claws. "Avacyn!" Alastor shouted, but it was too late. His little violet daughter ripped the mushroom off her leg with a shrill cry and pained whimper. Alastor reacted quick, bringing a giant paw to scoop Ava and tug her tighter, tactfully pulling her paws away from her own legs and the glowing fungi that had infected her. Her cries of agony and despair shattered his stony heart. "I know, sweetheart, I know. I hate it too." He lifted his head so a few drips of glowing liquid wouldn't land on her head, sniffling it back like he had a runny nose. Inside his head, the voices laughed at him, and with each cackling laugh, he felt the anxiety gripping his heart squeeze it tighter. "We're going to get better. We just have to be patient for a bit."

That was a lie, but Alastor wasn't going to frighten his child with the truth. He glanced down at his daughter once more, swallowing hard while he watched her sob into his thick fur. He glanced back to the cave entrance, knowing what was waiting for them just outside. During one of their meal drop-offs, Alastor had asked Irilyth to prepare him a mixture of nightshade extract and lavender oil—just in case. The vial should be waiting for him behind a rock just outside, but Alastor had refused to retrieve it. He was holding out hope, praying for their sickness to pass naturally. But if he and Avacyn began getting worse, or if he saw his daughter suffering beyond cure, he knew what had to be done. He wouldn't let his child suffer in agony. He loved her so, so much and he would do anything to keep her from torment—even if it meant taking the most extreme measure. He hadn't told Manea. She didn't need to know his failsafe plan. She'd find out anyway if he had to use it.

"Would you like to hear a story, my little star? Or maybe you'd like me to sing you a song?" asked Alastor, turning his smile down to his sniffling daughter while carefully stroking her back with one giant paw. He was grasping at straws, doing anything he could to soothe her and make their time in quarantine bearable. Alastor was living entirely for Avacyn now. She was all that mattered.

"Alastor Mendacium"