One is kind of enough sometimes. His hesitation earns an unseen smile, and she hums softly in amusement. Róisín's tenure as an only child had been so brief as to be nearly non-existent, and only counted if you did not include her father's other foals with other mares. Sigurdr was not her full brother, but he might as well have been, and Akadi and Aislinn had joined the family long before Róisín was even weaned.

The period between in which Siobhan had been forced away to the Arch was one she tried not to dwell on, but what had followed after her eventual return had been nothing short of an explosion of children, some of whom she was related to, and some of whom she was not. Lorcan, Hades, Finch, Kudzu, and so on. So many faces that had lived with them for some amount of time as young children, all of whom shared mothers as freely as they played together.

As Oswald began to speak of Filumena's unconditional acceptance of his condition, she thought that she could understand. She lacked a physical deformity that might cause others to doubt or question her capability, but the cloud of sadness that had lingered in her chest ever since her mother's first round of captivity had never left her. Iscariot had accepted her, sadness and all, and it was what had helped to draw them together, solidifying a bond that - up until a few years ago - Róisín would have believed was unshakeable.

She hoped Filumena and Oswald's bond was stronger than that, and that he would never know the pain of it being severed.

"You're her big brother," Rói said warmly, thinking of Sigurdr. "Sometimes it's not just thinking you can do the things you can't. Sometimes she'll know you can, if you just let yourself try."

His mood seemed to shift then, and she found her gaze rising back to his face as he addressed her again more seriously. "Yeah, Ozzie?" She listened quietly as he spoke and frowned at the implication. She was the one that had always wanted him to stay here, so she would be the last one to tell him to leave. Unless, of course, somewhere beneath that big soft heart of his lurked a monster like his father, but not even Roi could believe that.

"Of course you can," she said, her voice almost incredulous. "Gosh Ozzie, of course I want you to stay. I always did, even when your mom wanted you to go visit the Lagoon." She shook her head, surprised that he would think otherwise. In many ways, Ozzie felt like her younger sibling and the last thing she would ever willingly do is part herself from her family. "And none of the other sisters have said anything to me, but they'd have to go through me to make you leave, you goofball. You belong here."

The fact that Peak was supposed to be a refuge for mares from stallions did not escape her, but Ozzie wasn't like most stallions. He wasn't rude or pushy or overly familiar. He was sweet and kind and gentle.

Her protective big sister instincts kicked up again, and she stretched to touch him comfortingly, even as she began to question him for answers. "Did one of the sisters say something to you? Did your mom?"