Between having to stop to catch her breath and being temporarily debilitated with coughing fits (was that blood she could taste on her tongue?) It had taken her the better part of the night just to reach the mainland. By the time she reached the shrine, the sun was beginning to peek above the horizon. Her breathing was labored, her eyes were gross and gritty from crying and lack of sleep and she swore to herself that if he bothered to show his face before she had at least slept, she would tear out her not-husband's throat herself... If she didn't feel so fucking pitiful.

Her voice was hoarse as she wailed to her brother, “I don't care if you're not decent, Pont I'm coming in!” As she unceremoniously stomped into the shrine, instinctively turning towards the room that had been hers when she was a pup. It was probably dusty and full of spiders, but no more than her own fucking home had become.

Modesty just wanted to curl up in any tattered skins that remained and cry herself to sleep. There would be time to get spiritual later.

“Speech.”

Much of his day was typically allocated to tending his budding gardens, now that his fur had returned. Somehow, he blamed Modesty for that. She had mentioned being afflicted with mysterious nakedness, and having her fur grow back afterwards in a completely different texture. Now here he was, with hair longer than he knew what to do with, after months of horrible baldness in the wake of the mysterious spiritual afflictions of the lands. Always with the spirits and their fuckery.

Life with Emile, however, had been lovely thus far. There had been a learning curve, figuring out how to share space with another. Making sure to reaffirm their connection when necessary, and learning one another's habits as they went. However, he enjoyed the gentleness. It was so wholly different from the life he'd lived until this point, mysticism and madness and blood. Domesticity didn't suit him, not entirely, but he enjoyed it well enough. Being able to curl up by the fire and soak in the scent of another living creature, one that he was undeniably enamoured with. The shrine felt like home again.

So when his sister all but kicked the front door down, he could only have assumed she was intended to bring fresh misery with her. Which she did. Stinking to high heavens of disease and stress, not to mention.. regular old stinking. Without another word, she made herself at home in their old room. Which he had been using as a guest space, thankfully. So there was plenty of bedding for her to throw herself upon and throw a tantrum, as he assumed she intended to do.

The willowy wraith rose to his feet slowly, painfully glad that Emile was not home at the moment. Modesty would be far too much personality for the timid male to handle without preparation. A sidelong glance to Hallux was all the parrot needed to flit off through the open door to hunt down the other male, to offer a warning to remain away for the time being. "Mod," he murmured the affectionate name as he slipped into the room, expression guarded as he took in her condition. Ragged, disheveled. She'd been sick for some time. "good to see you again." he continued quietly, drawing a few steps closer to sidle up against her flank. Her skin felt sickly against his flank, but not to the degree that would draw more than the normal level of concern. "Dare I ask why you're here, and not resting in your own bed?" he enquired softly, already slipping around her bulkier form to rearrange bedding.

"Pontifex" || "Hallux" || "Pollux"

   

The whole space seemed less clinical than it had before, more… homey… not that she particularly noticed in her state of distress. When her brother wrapped around her to rearrange things she finally took in the room that she had walked into. It wasn’t dusty or full of spiders at all, it shocked her enough that for a moment the tears threatening to escape from her eyes (how was she hydrated enough to keep crying?) were held in place and a hiccup broke the momentary silence. Oh great, now she was gonna be making even stupider sounds in her distress! At least it was only her brother to see at the moment.

His question bought it all crashing back down on her again and a wailing sob escaped her, unable to be held back. “Because Gil’s in love with a dog and he probably knocked another woman up…” why else would he keep a pregnant slave around if she wasn’t carrying his kids? “And I am not a fucking consolation prize! I almost fucking drowned bringing his children into this world and this is what I get for almost dying?” her wailing had faded off to be replaced with growls. She wanted to grab something in her teeth and give it a good shake… if only she had the energy.

Modesty flopped unceremoniously on the bedding her brother had so carefully laid out for her, fighting her way through hiccups as she continued. “So if he shows his stupid face, I’m not here. Maybe give him something that will make him shit all the way home for me?” She paused for a moment considering, surely her brother was a resourceful man… “Or something that will make his dick fall off.” She punctuated that one with a nod, definitely the preferable option in her opinion. The thought alone was enough to bring her a little calm. “I like what you’ve done with the place. I’m sorry it’s been so long.”

“Speech.”