Stretched thin

Crux would never have called himself a good wolf, sure he took his role as a medic seriously and wouldn't ignore a wolf in need but he wasn't exactly a bleeding heart, too much internalized guilt manifesting as bitterness for that. But right in that moment he'd have called himself terrible, downright mean. Just throw "being an asshole to his brother" on his "feel guilty about this" to-do list. Because wasn't that the thing he was worried about? He didn't want to drive Dread away, but well frankly he was tired and sore and that was making his emotions pretty volatile. He shook his head as Dread started to stammer through a response to the news, to what exactly he wasn't sure. Maybe it was that he didn't have the energy to answer the question he'd been posed or maybe it was that he didn't want to see Dread apologizing; he wasn't at fault, for the flood at least.

And then came the explanation and Crux didn't even bother to hide his emotions as he listened, still he didn't interrupt. First was just his own tired earnest listening, honestly he had no problems with Dread wanting to spend time with the Raiders. It'd be pretty damn hypocritical of him. But as the story went on the exhaustion Crux wore deepened. Finally Dread finished and Crux sighed. "Fuck sake's Dread." it was said softly, more for himself than for his brother. He closed his eye, screwed them shut really trying to sort through the mess he'd just learned. And he'd thought his own situation was messy... Okay to be fair it made sense in a way his own issues still didn't quite yet. Crux could at least trace cause and effect pretty cleanly. "So let me get this straight..." He fixed his brother with a pointed stare. There was a lot there, frustration, exasperation, pain and hell even some sympathy. He wasn't exactly winning the "picking friends that won't become political problems down the line" game either.

"I don't want to keep fighting the pirates any more than you do." Dread could believe him or not, Crux couldn't care less on that front. Dread wasn't the only one who liked a pirate. Not even counting himself Crux had some inkling that Andy had been hanging around with a boy who was a former one, one who it seemed rubbed their father the wrong way. He'd even come to help her earlier today, same way Triss had. "But you orchestrated your own kidnapping?" He wasn't gonna blunt it, because far as he was aware that was what Dread had just told him; but he was incredulous. Had Dread not been able to see what a catastrophically bad idea that was? "You orchestrated your own kidnapping at the paws of a wolf that belongs to a pack that, regardless of how little we like it, is currently an enemy of the Armada. Can you hear how bad that sounds?" Crux sighed, lifting a wrist to rub at his eyes. Gods he just wanted to sleep. "Please tell me you told someone in Armada. Please tell me you told someone so the rest of us wouldn't have been left with the impression someone we cared about had just been taken. For who knows how long." He was partially pleading with Dread. Though based on the fact it seemed their father hadn't known he wasn't optimistic. Hell he didn't even blame their father for stabbing someone he thought was kidnapping his son. Still Crux felt he was being a bit too aggressive, time to pull it back.

"Shit, I'm sorry Dread," a genuine apology, "I just- It's not like I don't understand." He cast his gaze to the west, towards Insomnia lands. "Dad isn't exactly keen on my choice of company lately either." Crux swung his gaze back towards his brother, really truly he did understand. It wasn't easy being the son of the Warlord, especially not when your own emotional growth had been stunted at a young age by a traumatic death and the Warlord wasn't exactly good at talking about things like this. The pressure was inescapable and he couldn't say he didn't understand why his siblings might lash out or come up with very bad plans... If he'd been born different, if he'd been born with a working ankle would he do something that rash himself? Hard to say, he'd had to learn quick how to observe and absorb to survive very nearly literally. He'd escaped the worst of their older brother's abuse, not for Az's lack of trying, but he mostly chalked that up to the hours he'd spent learning how to read the subtle shifts in other's emotions, learning how to recognize the sound of paws on a warpath. Which meant he spent much too much time aware of things, spent much to much time with his own thoughts. That was honestly the biggest reason he wasn't prone to rash behaviour. Hard to be carried away on an impulse when your mind is so good at connecting the dots it's run through 50 reasons why that's a bad idea before you've even finished the thought. But then it wasn't worth considering, since afterall if he hadn't been born disabled their mother would still be alive and they'd all be a lot better off. "I just- I mean- You were just gone, no goodbye, no explanation. It was like-" Crux cut himself off, no that train of thought would only serve to hurt Dread and that wasn't his intention. No matter how much suddenly losing his brother reminded him of their mother. Definitely some trauma there he'd not worked out, and wasn't about to start trying! "It sucks! I've been worried and don't know how to react, the only thing I knew was that you were alive at least last anyone saw and were gone." Fuck now he was starting to tear up. "If the only thing I knew was that you'd been taken? Fuck Dread..." Crux shook his head, trying to fight back the tears. He wasn't the strongest, the fastest, the most social, he wasn't the best at anything. All he had was his medical knowledge and he wasn't even good enough at that to help Triss after she'd literally saved his life. What would he have been able to do but stay home and become consumed with his worry for his brother? Nothing. He could do nothing. And the thought that his own brother might have been about to let that become reality? Well it hurt. Was Crux centring himself? Yeah but he'd just lived through a flood, hadn't processed that yet at all, been incapable of healing Triss' throat, done more walking than he had in a long time on a leg that made his hips hurt when he did that and hadn't slept a wink since early morning, he wasn't exactly in the best position to be anything but self-centred at this point.

"Speech"