Stuff that stabs

Satira saw Arcturus begin to sink into himself when she demanded they hang out and do something to take his mind off of his loss and she responded by immediately huffing and storming her way right up to her brother and bonking her forehead gently into his until her vision was filled with nothing but sapphire eyes and gold fur. "No, don't do that. Don't keep beating yourself up, please," she said, trying to remain firm to show him she was serious, but a little quiver coming to her voice as she fought back her emotions. She wanted so badly for her brother to stop being upset, but she was powerless to do anything about it. It was just like how she felt with her parents—a spectator on the sidelines of the disaster that was the life she knew falling down around her. She hated feeling like she had no power or control over the situation. She hated standing to the side and feeling useless to help the ones she loved the most. It wasn't fair, to them or to her! Eventually, Arcturus reluctantly agreed to let her try to help him, then spoke sadly about how he didn't want to be like this. He broke her heart, but she held herself together for her brother's sake.

"I know you don't want to," said Satira, voice gentle and melancholy, but loving and soothing. A tiny speckled paw lifted from his to touch his cheek while she pressed her forehead to Arc's, letting her eyes close while she tried to comfort him to the best of her abilities. "And that's why I want to help make you better. Because you're my brother. And I love you so much." With her eyes still closed, Tira lifted her muzzle up to place a tender kiss to her sibling's temple. Then she pulled back to open her eyes and give him a small smile. "We're gonna make you better, okay? I won't stop until you're better again." It was a lofty promise, but one Tira intended to keep, no matter the cost.

"Satira Star Fatalis"