Okay, so the man picked up on her less that subtle response and now she felt bad. She heard the disappointment in his own voice, but whether it was because of her reaction or just because of his own thoughts, Orin didn’t know. It wasn’t that the man fought Shawchert that bothered her. It wasn’t the fact that the man apparently won the fight that bothered her. In fact, Orin didn’t even know they had brawled until she saw Tal’s wounds, and now heard the admittance from his own mouth.
She glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, chewing on her lip in nervous shame. One ear turned toward him while the other slanted backward, telegraphing her anxiety. What she’d done had made him feel bad, and she didn’t even know that he deserved it. Now he was turning to leave… Her fingers entwined together and she wrung her hands.
“Wait!” she finally got a breathy word out as she turned to face Taliesin again, holding a hand out as if to signal him to stop. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry I told him to do that!” She stammered, and then blurted it out as fast as she could. She looked surprised at herself, gasping and putting her hands to her mouth as if she hadn’t meant to say it. Her eyebrows pursed, and she looked at him with apology.
She probably sounded crazy, and she didn’t know if Tal knew what she was talking about. But now, as she stared at the man’s cuts, she couldn’t help but feel responsible for them. She’d never met Tal before, but she’d goaded Shawchert into fighting him. This was all her fault! Tal’s hide was sore and bruised because of her. And… she hadn’t even known of the fight, all she knew was that she hadn’t seen Shawchert in a few days. Was this why?
“I’m a terrible person!” She dropped her head into her hands in the entirely melodramatic fashion of the old Orin Takekuro. The childish Orin that had once been a park of the pack before the tragedy; the Orin that was slowly being brought back to life after she had returned to her pack.
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