It's almost worse to see Tefnut scrambling to make it right, to plug the holes that Rethe had stabbed into her with more words, more reasons, more justifications. None of it matters, really. Rethe's already a mess on the ground, having stabbed herself equally as often as she has stabbed Tefnut.

She mentions Caine. Mentions wanting to keep Rethe secret, safe, secure, and yet does not mention how she came home smelling like him again shortly after her trip to the Badlands. Or how they took off without her in the Commons. Tefnut sets it up as if Caine were the enemy, as if he were something that Rethe needed protecting from, when he'd been just as much a part of their game in the Commons as Rethe had been.

Her pity offer is offensive to the proud little black mare and she shrinks back from it physically, her countenance growing darker, though her lips remain pressed together as Tef keeps talking. She goes on about Lucifer, about protecting her, about how she'd sacrified to make sure Rethe was safe. Rethe does not know Lucifer, or his crimes, or his tendencies, and even if she had, the pride in her would not have allowed her to be afraid of him anymore than she would be afraid of the Lagoon.

Lucifer was mortal. And so was Caine.

"I didn't need protecting." Rethe hissed, ears flattening to her poll. "I'm not some damsel in distress. I don't need a savior." The word is a curse, toxic in her mouth and her teeth snap together as she finishes.

Tefnut continues on again, not waiting for her answers, rolling right onto the next rebuttal. This one is harder to brace against and she can feel her resolve wavering. All Rethe has ever wanted is to have someone who will not leave her behind or forget her or replace her with new children and new memories. Someone who wants her. Loves her.

It's you Rethe, or it's nothing.

She wants so badly to believe it's true. But wanting doesn't cover the hurting, and the hurting is all over her face, her heart, her soul. She's been hurting for so long that letting any of it out has started a tidal wave that she cannot control.

"I don't want to be your afterthought."

It's an ugly, ugly thing to say and she regrets it as soon as it leaves her mouth, but Rethe does not take it back. And Rethe does not apologize.