Myrika is by me!
She listened and heard, but did not believe, and knew she was not doing enough, had not done enough -- and Myrika would not even be blessed/cursed with the knowledge of what she had failed to prevent in her inaction. She shook her head, uncertain what precisely she was disagreeing with. All of it, perhaps. All old instinct came welling up, fierce desire to protect and keep safe. And however strong it was, she still knew how equally foolish it was. They were promises none could make and hope to keep always and forever; separation and death and the malice of others were forces more powerful than the good in the world, as much as Myri would have liked to believe otherwise. She managed to fool herself sometimes -- hope was such a wonderfully powerful and treacherous emotion, after all.
I could keep you safe, she said, relenting at last to uncage the scratching, pacing, sniffing words. Nothing else would happen. She could lie, too -- however matched they were for transparency, though, perhaps Myrika's exceeded her sister's in desperation. If Inferni was so terrible, Cassie could sequester herself from its coyotes and Myrika could order them to leave her be. She could have a wing of the decrepit mansion, the schoolhouse itself, a quiet corner of the forest. All of it was lined with skulls, though. No matter where they were within the territory, they sat on its edge, grinning ferocious warning to would-be trespassers. Silly, stupid child's dreams couldn't hope to compete with the stark whiteness of bone on the border, the brilliant red of spilled blood.
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