Now Look What You've Done

A slight twitch pulled at Manea's lip as Relm avoided her gaze, looking away from her save for a slight glance in her direction before she gave her an answer. It wasn't exactly a new occurrence from the awkward woman, but that didn't mean that it settled any better with her than it ever had. Relm told her what she had already previously suspected—that there were no bodies to burry. Considering the fact that there had been no obvious signs for Relm's pregnancy, at least not that Alastor had mentioned to her, she couldn't imagine that she had been that far along. Still, she could at least know for certain now that there was no grave or possibility of one to show to Alastor and she would have to tell him as much. He had wanted to know how many there were, if they were boys or girls, and all of the things he had come to expect from the litters he had sired with her, but there was none of that here. Only loss and more questions than answers. She simply gave a short nod in response and was already thinking ahead to how she would tell him and how she could help him grieve in place of a more traditional grave. She hoped that information would give him some sort of peace, but it was so hard to guess with him—especially when he was in the state he had fallen into.

Her gaze lingered on Relm's face for a moment as the General continued to keep her focus directed away from her, grating at Manea's already thin nerves. A soft hint of a growl escaped her as she reached out and grabbed at Relm's cheek, her claws lightly catching her skin as she jerked her head up to face her. "Look at me when I'm talking to you," she snarled with frustration. "You're not a fucking weak, meek bitch. Stop acting like it." She released her with a strained sigh, rubbing her paw over her face before giving a shake of her head and glancing up at the ceiling of the cave. It would have been so easy in that moment to simply be done with it, kick her out of the pack while she was estranged from Alastor, and tell her to never see him again. She had the authority to do so and she wasn't even certain that Alastor would argue with her decision right now if she did. However, it didn't feel like her place to do so. Alastor had brought her here. Alastor was the one she had wronged. He should be the one to make that call, but when would he be mentally well enough again to make that choice? Would he just be blinded by his affection for her again after the dust settled?

"Do you have any concept of what what you've done by sending him away like that?" she questioned, bringing her gaze back down to Relm again with incredulous disbelief. "You told the man that has formed his entire state of being around being a father to leave instead of being there for the loss of his children. I walked into my home to Alastor cut up and bloodied from fighting the world and downing a bottle of hard liquor, completely shattered and broken over the fact that you refused to let him be here to mourn them. You've now forced me to have to find a suitable punishment for Irilyth for going against Alastor's authority and keeping him away at your request. I had to medicate and drug my own husband so that he could get any kind of rest after he shattered a fucking bottle and cut up his own paw!" The anger in her tone built as she went on, starting at a slow simmer and growing to a rolling boil. "But it's not you that has to deal with that, is it? No, you can just send him away and allow me to pick up the pieces."

"Manea Mendacium"