TOW | Growing Pains

Winter. 2025.
CW: Death. Grief.

Prompt: No turning back.

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His death hurt. Because of what he had done for her in the past. But also because Calypso understood how far its effect would reach, had witnessed how deep the grief could carve. Like in Weston, who now carried the message to Zeke’s sister, Maeve. She had met the Archvicar in Tephe, had seen the fierce devotion they carried for their brother’s survival and well-being. Her head sagged at the thought of notifying them. She had not the strength now to linger on it.

As another truth was revealed alongside Sigrid. The child had not wandered blindly into the wilds. She had followed someone. She had followed Minette.

At first, Calypso hesitated to believe that. But she knew her daughter, knew her habits, her quiet disobediences. She had reprimanded Minette countless times for sneaking out alone to the farther reaches of the territory. And when she replayed her daughter’s report about Sigrid’s disappearance, suspicion bloomed.

Still, she wished to know from her own daughter's mouth. She sat with her back turned to the sinking sun. She had summoned Minette as she stalked back to the den, not checking if her child followed. She had done what she could for now, for Weston, for Zeke. Gudrun had long retreated to tend to the shaken Sigrid and her other pups. It was the Legate’s duty to tend to her own now.

“Mom?” Minette hovered at the entrance, small against the mouth of the den. She had heard it in her mother’s voice when she was called, something hollow and tight. The juvenile had let out a breath of relief when she watched Sigrid return from the Château’s cliffs hours ago.

They had rescued her! Everything was fine. That was what she kept telling herself, even as anxiety wrestled within.

“Minette,” Calypso said without turning. Her shoulders sagged, her head low as she prayed for composure. “How did Sigrid end up out in the Ambers?”

Calypso | Minette | Art | Writing (c) TheStarvingRaven