Aug 08 2025, 03:08 PM
Maw didn't like how nonchalant Manna was about all of this. Her reasoning had nothing to do with what Maw's would have been, in her position. Namely: you harmed my child. Tahi-shei's lightning inevitably stems from you. Of course tried to kill someone with it, too. And like a selfish, unchanging monster—or maybe just a pathetic criminal—you feel bad about it even though you won't do anything to change. And now you never can, in a way that matters to the ones you hurt.' But as Maw tried to imagine those words coming out of Manna's mouth, the more the whole scenario sounded like a lunacy that could only ever be bred in the isolated walls of Maw's own mind. In other words, not real. Could never be real, not from Manna. Maw sighed.
It felt worse, somehow, to be lauded and sympathized with (and in such a mushy, sappy way) by the jaguar who had helped raise the pup whom Maw had electrocuted half to death. Did Manna have no preservation instinct for his children? Was Maw cruel to have thought that? The spiral continued from there—see? Proving it yourself. You haven't changed. And being bothered by it is just another self-aggrandizing—This, combined with the antsy-ness brought to Maw by her own stillness, and by that other affliction, caused Maw to look, perhaps, a bit more shaken than she felt.
It showed, apparently. From the corner of her eye, Maw could see Manna's concern (for her) somehow reaching new heights. Maw didn't even need to see it—it coated the air, suffocated her lungs, at this point. In the silence between Manna's last sentence and Maw's response, Maw's thoughts kept returning to how to make it stop. "Y-ou don'-t know tha-t fo-r sure. You're no-t my frie-nd."
Manna seemed unbothered by this comment. Her expression shifted to a placid grin. 'Maybe I should be. It seems like we're the closest thing to friends that we have left.' The smile dropped. 'Hm... that sounded kind of sad, didn't it?' Maw let him think about that in silence for a while while she pondered the rippling black water in front of her. And when he finally spoke again, Maw wished she hadn't given him the space.
'Maybe we should make more friends. Explore the caves together, see what's changed. In fact, I... I have a bit of a crazy favor to ask of you. But! I have some very compelling arguments for why you should help me.' The grin was back on, as Maw got to see now that she was staring at him with a serious glare. Prompted solely by Maw's willful silence, Manna continued:
'I was thinking of reviving some gemstones.' Maw's hackles began to bristle. She already didn't like where this was going. (If Manna wasn't careful, she was going to lose her, and she knew that.) 'Some way to bring life back into these caves for me. Children are talented at that—perhaps a little too talented. Perhaps you already know.' Maw did not know. And that was a massive, gaping wound in her chest that she hadn't told Manna about. 'They'll engage with the world, and force me to engage with it, too. I... had to move my den a while ago to allow more space for my son. I think he went to sleep. The den feels emptier now.' Although this did elicit a strange pang in Maw's chest, Maw still did not know what any of this had to do with her and thus her expression remained flat and neutral.
'I need your help with reviving a stone.' Ah. There it was. Maw's fur immediately stood on end, her muscles tensed, and she couldn't help the way her voice elevated, crackling all the while. "You don'-t know me! Y-ou don'-t kn-ow that m-y magi-c doesn'-t... do tha-t!" When Manna looked confused and somewhat startled by Maw's outburst, the cat did her best to settle down a little and explain. "I trie-d. Th-ey n-ever hatch-ed."
There it was again. That profound concern smudging the jaguar's facial features, the kind that tasted like bile shoved into Maw's mouth. 'None of them?' "N-one." Sorry to disappoint, Maw might've added with enough dripping sarcasm to cut the sadness out of Manna's eyes, but Maw didn't have the willpower.
There was one that Maw could remember. Someone else had asked her help. She'd never seen what had happened to that stone. But she wasn't going to mention that here. Manna had already proven herself to be the type to take an inch and run a mile with it.
And yet, despite having given her no inch, Manna was not dissuaded. 'That's strange, but in this case, it is ultimately alright. This one doesn't need to hatch either. But if I tried to revive it myself, it may never get even a chance to live again. Its magic is weak, and so is mine, and I know yours is strong. And—yes, from what you've told me, I understand that this will not inspire confidence in the idea. There's already enough people who look after your power with nefarious intentions. But I'm not going to. I can't tell you that you've changed and expect you to believe me without providing evidence.' Manna was jumping to provide her arguments before Maw had the chance to fire back or leave, and perhaps he was right to do so.
But as soon as she did leave an opening, Maw would flatly demand: "Wh-at if I kill i-t?"
'I won't let you.' Manna fired back with alarming preparedness. (Fluid grace, Manna would have preferred it called—but this isn't his narrative right now.) Maw still wasn't convinced in the slightest. The solution couldn't be that easy. Manna had just said her magic was weak, so what did she have to contend with Maw's storms and squalls? Her monsoons?
As if the jaguar could read her mind, she answered: 'I can't fight you, and I wouldn't anyway. But I do know this: you never actually killed Comet. And in your state, I doubt you'd try something like that again.' Maw was being underestimated. It made her grimace pretty severely. Underestimation didn't even mean much to Maw anymore, but it certainly wasn't helping Manna's argument to do so. 'Additionally, from what you've implied, it seems that the very thought of using your element to kill an innocent bothers you. That harming Comet bothered you. That you connected the two—perhaps maladaptively—in your head. After all, you didn't keep going after her. You were best friends with her stepfather and you stayed pretty far away from her at all times.' Manna got her there.
'I may have too much confidence in my judge of character, but I never took you for a bad person, Maw. Perhaps a person who needed guidance, and more patience than you were willing to give. But from what I understood of the situation, you were very smart, and trying to be kinder. Still trying, even now. If you were all that you seem to think you are, you would have struck me at least once or twice by now. And I don't think you have the patience to lie to people about your nature.' It felt strange to be read so openly, so easily, by a jaguar that Maw had hardly known who'd barely even seen her face. Part of her felt bad she never payed as much attention to Manna in turn, and another part of her reacted to how much Manna had apparently been paying attention to her that whole time. What was the reaction? The feelings felt? Well,
'You don't have to raise the child with me, if it does hatch. You're more than welcome to. If you think you may hurt them and you need a safety net, I know Fornax very well and I have ideas for where to keep them and you. Separated or together. I only need you to promise that you'll help me keep them alive. Both before and after revival.'
Maw was running out of ways to turn her down. Inside, it felt like her heart was bleeding. Dying to try again, to say yes. She hated this truth, but she missed when life had meaning. She missed seeing someone else's smile, hearing someone else's words. Her mind leapt to imagining the happy memories she could have made with the children she'd tried to have, had they hatched. But she had to shut that down. This was not a decision to be made impulsively.
"I-f I d-o, b-ut mi-ne doesn'-t ha-tch, d-o I st-ill nee-d to hel-p?"
The jaguar smiled. 'If I could get you to? Yes. They would still be a sibling to their waking family. Their sibling egg. We could paint a face on it and...' Maw did not look or feel amused. '...sorry.'
After a little more discussion of the specifics of this plan, Maw pulled away from their discussion with a final request. "Ca-n I th-ink abou-t it?"
Manna smiled at her. 'Of course. I'd like you to make this decision with as much confidence as you can get. Though I do fear that, in your condition, you may overthink it or bail on me. So I would appreciate if we could set a time limit, and you could agree to extend your visit to Fornax. I have some potential domiciles I could show you. To stay in, for now.' Maw considered and then nodded in agreement. They decided on three days. Not nearly as much as Maw would have wanted, but if it could've been up to Maw alone, she would have wanted a hundred cycles. Maybe a thousand. Manna was trying hard to convince her to be more adventurous than that, and Maw was going along with it almost out of sympathy for her.
"I-s i-t oka-y if I don'-t do i-t? A-t the e-nd." Manna's smile never dropped. It only softened, along with his eyes, into something else. Something smoky and dark, something that made Maw's tail twitch a little. "I'm surprised that you're being as cooperative as you are. It suggests to me all the more that I am making the right decision."
Manna showed Maw a few places where she could stay to think, and Maw left the encounter with a veritable mound of free fish to eat and a strange knot in her gut. She didn't really know how to feel. To feel grateful, or guilty—was she being impulsive, or finally wise—? It was hard to tell. And she would try to puzzle it out, to tease apart the knot of emotions welled up inside of her. When she finally felt ready to decide, she still wouldn't have it all puzzled out.
It felt worse, somehow, to be lauded and sympathized with (and in such a mushy, sappy way) by the jaguar who had helped raise the pup whom Maw had electrocuted half to death. Did Manna have no preservation instinct for his children? Was Maw cruel to have thought that? The spiral continued from there—see? Proving it yourself. You haven't changed. And being bothered by it is just another self-aggrandizing—This, combined with the antsy-ness brought to Maw by her own stillness, and by that other affliction, caused Maw to look, perhaps, a bit more shaken than she felt.
It showed, apparently. From the corner of her eye, Maw could see Manna's concern (for her) somehow reaching new heights. Maw didn't even need to see it—it coated the air, suffocated her lungs, at this point. In the silence between Manna's last sentence and Maw's response, Maw's thoughts kept returning to how to make it stop. "Y-ou don'-t know tha-t fo-r sure. You're no-t my frie-nd."
Manna seemed unbothered by this comment. Her expression shifted to a placid grin. 'Maybe I should be. It seems like we're the closest thing to friends that we have left.' The smile dropped. 'Hm... that sounded kind of sad, didn't it?' Maw let him think about that in silence for a while while she pondered the rippling black water in front of her. And when he finally spoke again, Maw wished she hadn't given him the space.
'Maybe we should make more friends. Explore the caves together, see what's changed. In fact, I... I have a bit of a crazy favor to ask of you. But! I have some very compelling arguments for why you should help me.' The grin was back on, as Maw got to see now that she was staring at him with a serious glare. Prompted solely by Maw's willful silence, Manna continued:
'I was thinking of reviving some gemstones.' Maw's hackles began to bristle. She already didn't like where this was going. (If Manna wasn't careful, she was going to lose her, and she knew that.) 'Some way to bring life back into these caves for me. Children are talented at that—perhaps a little too talented. Perhaps you already know.' Maw did not know. And that was a massive, gaping wound in her chest that she hadn't told Manna about. 'They'll engage with the world, and force me to engage with it, too. I... had to move my den a while ago to allow more space for my son. I think he went to sleep. The den feels emptier now.' Although this did elicit a strange pang in Maw's chest, Maw still did not know what any of this had to do with her and thus her expression remained flat and neutral.
'I need your help with reviving a stone.' Ah. There it was. Maw's fur immediately stood on end, her muscles tensed, and she couldn't help the way her voice elevated, crackling all the while. "You don'-t know me! Y-ou don'-t kn-ow that m-y magi-c doesn'-t... do tha-t!" When Manna looked confused and somewhat startled by Maw's outburst, the cat did her best to settle down a little and explain. "I trie-d. Th-ey n-ever hatch-ed."
There it was again. That profound concern smudging the jaguar's facial features, the kind that tasted like bile shoved into Maw's mouth. 'None of them?' "N-one." Sorry to disappoint, Maw might've added with enough dripping sarcasm to cut the sadness out of Manna's eyes, but Maw didn't have the willpower.
There was one that Maw could remember. Someone else had asked her help. She'd never seen what had happened to that stone. But she wasn't going to mention that here. Manna had already proven herself to be the type to take an inch and run a mile with it.
And yet, despite having given her no inch, Manna was not dissuaded. 'That's strange, but in this case, it is ultimately alright. This one doesn't need to hatch either. But if I tried to revive it myself, it may never get even a chance to live again. Its magic is weak, and so is mine, and I know yours is strong. And—yes, from what you've told me, I understand that this will not inspire confidence in the idea. There's already enough people who look after your power with nefarious intentions. But I'm not going to. I can't tell you that you've changed and expect you to believe me without providing evidence.' Manna was jumping to provide her arguments before Maw had the chance to fire back or leave, and perhaps he was right to do so.
But as soon as she did leave an opening, Maw would flatly demand: "Wh-at if I kill i-t?"
'I won't let you.' Manna fired back with alarming preparedness. (Fluid grace, Manna would have preferred it called—but this isn't his narrative right now.) Maw still wasn't convinced in the slightest. The solution couldn't be that easy. Manna had just said her magic was weak, so what did she have to contend with Maw's storms and squalls? Her monsoons?
As if the jaguar could read her mind, she answered: 'I can't fight you, and I wouldn't anyway. But I do know this: you never actually killed Comet. And in your state, I doubt you'd try something like that again.' Maw was being underestimated. It made her grimace pretty severely. Underestimation didn't even mean much to Maw anymore, but it certainly wasn't helping Manna's argument to do so. 'Additionally, from what you've implied, it seems that the very thought of using your element to kill an innocent bothers you. That harming Comet bothered you. That you connected the two—perhaps maladaptively—in your head. After all, you didn't keep going after her. You were best friends with her stepfather and you stayed pretty far away from her at all times.' Manna got her there.
'I may have too much confidence in my judge of character, but I never took you for a bad person, Maw. Perhaps a person who needed guidance, and more patience than you were willing to give. But from what I understood of the situation, you were very smart, and trying to be kinder. Still trying, even now. If you were all that you seem to think you are, you would have struck me at least once or twice by now. And I don't think you have the patience to lie to people about your nature.' It felt strange to be read so openly, so easily, by a jaguar that Maw had hardly known who'd barely even seen her face. Part of her felt bad she never payed as much attention to Manna in turn, and another part of her reacted to how much Manna had apparently been paying attention to her that whole time. What was the reaction? The feelings felt? Well,
'You don't have to raise the child with me, if it does hatch. You're more than welcome to. If you think you may hurt them and you need a safety net, I know Fornax very well and I have ideas for where to keep them and you. Separated or together. I only need you to promise that you'll help me keep them alive. Both before and after revival.'
Maw was running out of ways to turn her down. Inside, it felt like her heart was bleeding. Dying to try again, to say yes. She hated this truth, but she missed when life had meaning. She missed seeing someone else's smile, hearing someone else's words. Her mind leapt to imagining the happy memories she could have made with the children she'd tried to have, had they hatched. But she had to shut that down. This was not a decision to be made impulsively.
"I-f I d-o, b-ut mi-ne doesn'-t ha-tch, d-o I st-ill nee-d to hel-p?"
The jaguar smiled. 'If I could get you to? Yes. They would still be a sibling to their waking family. Their sibling egg. We could paint a face on it and...' Maw did not look or feel amused. '...sorry.'
After a little more discussion of the specifics of this plan, Maw pulled away from their discussion with a final request. "Ca-n I th-ink abou-t it?"
Manna smiled at her. 'Of course. I'd like you to make this decision with as much confidence as you can get. Though I do fear that, in your condition, you may overthink it or bail on me. So I would appreciate if we could set a time limit, and you could agree to extend your visit to Fornax. I have some potential domiciles I could show you. To stay in, for now.' Maw considered and then nodded in agreement. They decided on three days. Not nearly as much as Maw would have wanted, but if it could've been up to Maw alone, she would have wanted a hundred cycles. Maybe a thousand. Manna was trying hard to convince her to be more adventurous than that, and Maw was going along with it almost out of sympathy for her.
"I-s i-t oka-y if I don'-t do i-t? A-t the e-nd." Manna's smile never dropped. It only softened, along with his eyes, into something else. Something smoky and dark, something that made Maw's tail twitch a little. "I'm surprised that you're being as cooperative as you are. It suggests to me all the more that I am making the right decision."
Manna showed Maw a few places where she could stay to think, and Maw left the encounter with a veritable mound of free fish to eat and a strange knot in her gut. She didn't really know how to feel. To feel grateful, or guilty—was she being impulsive, or finally wise—? It was hard to tell. And she would try to puzzle it out, to tease apart the knot of emotions welled up inside of her. When she finally felt ready to decide, she still wouldn't have it all puzzled out.