"No," the elder tobiano murmured, his voice firm but gentle.
"The Lagoon is off limits."
He could see the storm brewing in her eyes, the resentment and dislike that colored those dark brown irises. Rehoboam had been fending off Osiris’ requests to see the Lagoon since he had first taken her from Celestine, and while the answer had not changed in all of those months, Osiris’ tactics certainly had.
She was a clever filly, and Reh sometimes felt like he was three steps behind her, frantically trying to childproof all the broken edges of his life so she wouldn’t hurt herself on his mistakes. Entering the Lagoon was non-negotiable and she knew that, but it had not dissuaded her from trying to get him to allow her access. She wanted to see where it was that her dad disappeared to when he was not with her, and he very desperately wanted the rest of the Lagoon (and Nyimara) to be oblivious to the fact that he had her at all.
Osiris had begged and pleaded, turned puppy dog eyes and snapping teeth on him, and still, he remained unmoved by her pleas. He broke down but did not budge when she’d confessed to him that his absences – his duty to appear in the Lagoon on occasion, as though he were still a true member – tore her apart after her mother had cast her away. Against every barrage of guilt tripping and accusation, he had remained firm, and Osiris had remained hidden, safely sequestered in a rotating list of small glades and caves and crevasses where wandering eyes did not often look.
"The Lagoon or Tinuvel." She stubbornly insisted, her proud head thrown back and dun-tipped ears flattened against her poll. Rehoboam’s jaw set and he turned to glare at her, frustrated by her mulishness. She knew that both places were very much off-limits for very different reasons. He had once dreamed of taking Celestine and Osiris to the Cove, to his family, and tucking them away in safety, but those dreams had long ago died and reality had set in. His father would kill him. Not just for his own stupidity, but for Bellona, for Celestine, for Osiris.
And call him a coward, but he still had a sense of self-preservation left.
"No." he answered, jaw clenched. He saw the gleam of eagerness in her eye a half second before she offered her third option, the one she was truly seeking, having already pushed back against the options he would not budge on.
"The Prairie, then," she said, her voice softening from the antagonistic tone she’d used a moment ago to something more akin to pleading.
"Where you and mom fell in love."
The reminder of that moment, of how very far he had fallen and how much he had lost, was bitter, but he knew before she was finished talking that he could not refuse her. The moments he had to bond with her were growing ever more rare, especially now that she was near old enough to not need his protection anymore. He could not undo his failings during her early years, but he could not give up on making new memories, better memories for her. Even if she left him once she matured as it seemed likely that she would, he wanted to be able to at least cling to the hope that she would remember him with some kind of fondness, and not just the frustration he saw often on her face.
They made landfall early in the afternoon, and waded ashore together. Rehoboam did not think there would be any lights to see tonight, but it had been so long since he'd been so idly employed that he'd been able to gossip while he was working. Now, he worked very hard to look very busy without ever lifting a hand to assist Psychedelic and his pack of hellhounds.
"It's so pretty here," she murmured, her eyes wide. Rehoboam chuckled and nodded, but he wasn't focused on the wildflower-studded grassland or on the beach. He did not know the leader that lived here, nor their stance on surprise guests. It was part of why he had refused Osiris' requests in the past, not that it did him any good now.
"Hey!" Osiris called behind him - seemingly oblivious to his worries,
"is anyone home?" He hissed her name beneath his breath, but she only grinned in response and trotted a few jaunty steps forward in welcome, eager to meet someone new.