The culprit would always returned to the scene of the crime didn't they? Her paws softly scowered the gentle lands as the cool air fell onto her form. She was so tired and all she could do was self pity. She betrayed every ounce of trust that sat within the wolves around her. Bags had formed if anyone would notice, not that a wolf would have that sort of thing. She just looked tired, she looked hungry and starved. Her usually glossy fur was matted together as her glossed over eyes looked over the mangrove. Someone.... would claim this. She'd return to the earth someday and nobody would even remember her name. She didn't even have anything left on this earth. "I did this." she whispered out. She looked as the cold wind moved through her scampy fur. She pulled herself apart and she'd pulled her family apart. She couldn't even dare to think about the face that her father would have if she ever saw him again... if she ever did. Her paws spread as she growled - what did she do now? Did she fight for her right back, or did she let it go. Did she leave? She didn't know when her haunted demons would control herself again. She'd confided in many, but they just left over and over again. Heather was just tired. "Talk"

She had reconnected with her brothers, she had seen her father, but she still couldn’t keep herself from searching until she found some sign of Heather. Maybe her father and brothers would have some other kind of reaction to Fiori’s demise, but her main consern was making sure that Heather was okay. Every once in awhile she would think back to the day that Heather snapped at her... the day that she had kept as a secret to herself. Maybe if she had told Leo or even tried to see if Heather remembered that time things could have been different. Maybe she could have helped her. Instead she was afraid to call her sister out and now here she was, walking through the remains of their old home again. Even though she had Dragoste to tend to and Philomena to worry about she still made the time to check for her sister.

Just when she was about to turn back toward home with a defeated sigh, she heard the faint sound of a growl in the distance and her ears perked up to listen. Despite her better judgement she slowly walked in the direction of the sound and was stunned by who she saw. Her sister was barely recognizable with the terrible condition she was in, but Roza knew without a doubt. After all, Heather was her only sister. They may have never been that close, but they were blood. “Heather,” she said simply as she walked over to her, happy to see that she was alive but saddened all the same. For a moment she didn’t know what to say. She wanted to ask what had happened, but she didn’t want to push her if it had been some terrible circumstance. She didn’t want to throw blame or point fingers. She just wanted to care for her sister. “Come to Dragoste... If you want to I mean. Even if it’s just to get cleaned up and get back on your feet. We don’t have to talk about... all of this if you don’t want to.”

She didn't understand how her brain worked. She didn't understand... how she worked. As Heather stood there, it seemed like her sister almost wasn't there at all. Her blue orbs were covered in a glossed over pain. The first interaction with family she'd had in a season and she had every urge to forgive forgiveness. If she threatened to take herself away would that accomidate it. Though it was really her father, her brother she wanted to see. "Roza tell me, is that scar.... from me?" the words tumbled off her tongue. She stepped forward with her eyes glistening. She didn't want to go to dragoste. If there was a chance someone was there that would just build up the wrong memories she didn't know what direction she was supposed to be taking. Her state didn't entirely look the best. "I need some time." Heather responded as she finally looked away. It was her fault all of this came tumbling down on her. She should have told her dad, but she had worried and worried. She had thought lionel left her, abandoned her. She was foolish and her head ran a mile a minute. "Talk"