I don't play by the rules

R I K Y N & D U I R The buck bleats a happy hello and even manages to appear to smile, delighted to be greeted so warmly (and in similar fashion) by the pretty woman he had met not long before Helovia had become shadow. Glad, also, to be reunited with Gwyn, his scowl is short lived, soon replaced by the pleasant expression of one who believes all is going right, for once. The commentary about me is let to pass, mostly because Duir can’t talk, but also because, if he could, he probably wouldn’t have voiced that I hadn’t a clue she was gone at all himself. When Gwyn does, an ear flicks over to her, and he spares a swift glance, wondering if it’s particularly smart to tell adults that your parents don’t know where you are to defend you (of course, it should be noted that Duir is also a dire pessimist when it comes to potential outcomes, especially those that might involve being chased and killed; must be a deer complex). Truth is, I am worried, but not exactly sick. More like worried enraged. Worried pissed off. Worried gonna punt my companion across a jungle. Back alongside the sea, however, Duir meets Gwyn’s accusation with a bleat of denial, his green eyes wide. Of course he hadn’t told me! He didn’t like being threatened. When Ki’irha suggests he return all three of them into my company, then, Duir looks again to Gwyn, half hoping she’ll deny the request. Instead, she affirms it, and the deer looks rather horrified for only a split second, before he is again regal and composed. Bobbing his muzzle with the gesture of a yes, he steps off towards the jungle, his mind tentatively reaching out towards mine, to get an estimate on where I am. The steam billowing freight train that greets him is much nearer than expected. His ears fall back and his head lowers, his speed slacking to allow himself to cleave near to the unicorn mares in his company. Hopefully, their figures are enough to shield him from the wrath of me, swiftly making my way to reclaim my daughter from the worst baby sitter ever. this is not destruction this is your birth —

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