Zawyne was so glad that Nyla was not only okay, but also that she was here. But even that was bittersweet, for soon after her appearance, Zawyne’s guardian Adara told them that she was leaving. Not permanently or anything, she was not abandoning them, but she was going to look for the fallen rainbows and collect them, in order to give them a proper funeral. It was a relief in some ways that Adara cared so much about them all and did not merely feel forced to be committed to them, but at the same time, if Adara was not within the pack, that was one less wolf, one less Tempest to ward off the vampires. And right now, she feared meeting a vampire more than anything else. She did not wish to end up like Vera or any of the others who had died… Zaffy did not want her blood sucked dry until she became a desiccated corpse. She did not want to die… In fact she wanted absolutely nothing to do with death from now on. And so she was in a daze for most of what was going on, not even truly registering the words her sister said until a few seconds afterwards. Eventually, she nodded, moved to Nyla‘s side, in order to begin grooming her. Unconsciously, she nodded... Yes, that was right… In the past, they had always prided themselves upon their appearance… But didn’t matter much anymore? There was no one to show off for, and they would be bound to their Oferwederen no matter what they looked like. In light of the bigger picture, why was their appearance so important?

Still, she did as her sister commanded and begin to clean the other, her tongue gentle upon the fae‘s pelt, not wanting to overwhelm her. She had no idea how long Nyla had been on her own, how long she been without the company of others, and the princess did not want to frighten her nor scare her away. There were so many of them gone… And so few of them left. She had no way of knowing how many of the Arcus Irae had survived back home - how many have been killed in the crossfire of the uprising? And of the Tempests who remained, how many had turned into vampires? Was everyone dead, sucked dry, devoid of blood? It was only these dark thoughts that swirled in her mind, and even the appearance of Nyla and the company of the others managed only to break up a few spots, and the sunrise princess clung desperately to those blades of light, hoping they could pull her out of her abysmal depression. She worked automatically, cleaning Nyla‘s pelt as she had cleaned her own and Losa‘s one million times, using her incisors to gently pull out any twigs or leaves, before rasping her tongue tenderly over the hairs to clean them, sleek them down. Of course, a full bath would have been preferable - one with water to truly bring out the most vibrant colors in the pelt. But they were not going for vibrancy… They were doing this simply to soothe Nyla, to give her a sense of belonging and importance… Something to focus her energy on, to comfort her and make her feel at ease, at home. And that was when she realized - this was home, at least for now. For so long, Zawyne had thought that one day, they would make it back home, that she would be reunited with her parents, be happy again. That the Tempests’ goal would be the same as hers - to reestablish the royal line in the seat of power and to overthrow Duma. She was young, and naïve, but she was not stupid, and so she stepped away from Nyla to silently reprimand herself as an epiphany swept over her. How could she have ever succumbed to such a daydream? After all… This was the Tempests’ home - these Tempests anyway. Aindreas ruled here in Dierne Hrof, Vladimir lived here, Adara lived here… Why would get they give up their home to help the Arcus Irae find their own? It would be the ultimate sacrifice, and it was one that Zawyne certainly would never ask of her Oferweder.

In that moment, she realized that she was an outcast. And the world came crumbling down around her, and for the first time ever, a mask slid over her face to hide her true emotions - she would not weigh anyone down with them, not even her sister. Watery pools glanced up briefly to mark the entrance of Archangel, and she wondered briefly when he had grown so tall. It was a curious thought… especially considering she had not even marked the growth of herself, and although it was curious, it was fleeting. Instead, she focused on how damaged she was, and worried about how the blight within her might spread to the others. She was an outcast, yes, and all of this… Duma‘s actions… They were all her fault.

She turned back to the others and smiled, not wanting them to see that anything was wrong. “Shall we tie in some flowers to her nape? Perhaps some lavender?”

⁂Here^I_{am a}Commoner⁂Teen⁂