Huckleberry, as per usual, was cowering beneath one of the bushes that surrounded Mercurius's garden. His brown hair blended into the trunk behind him, but his bright red eyes and gem stuck out from the undergrowth like a sore thumb. He looked thoroughly miserable, his wings pressed close to his side and his head under his claws. He was doing everything he could to steady his breathing. In and out, in and out, just like Mercurius told him to do. His heart was racing so Huckleberry sent a spark to himself, trying to slow its tempo so he could think straight. In and out, in and out, slow down, breathe deep. In and out, in and out.

Shiny was standing up on the tree above him, clutching to a thin branch at the top of the canopy, her trained eyes scouring the green below for any sign of a white creature. A glimmer of silver caught her eye and she immediately sent a message through her link. Huckle-friend, I see him. An image of the location where she had seen Pride (probably), came through the link, but Huckleberry didn't move. All it did was make his breathing harder to control.

He'd been planning this for weeks, coming up with every word he could say, carefully crafting an apology that he found he was quickly forgetting. He wondered if what he'd done in the battle was forgivable. Every time he asked himself this, he remembered Pride's eyes - cold, calculating, full of anger and hatred for all the monsters that attacked his home. And he had willingly allowed himself to become such a monster.

Finding Pride's forgiveness meant everything to him. Because if Pride could forgive him, then his actions in the fight would be forgiven. Rift had already done so, giving him and Yew official Kingdom status, but, perhaps because he knew him better, or because his air of nobility projected a much stronger sense of authority, Huckleberry valued Pride's opinion more then Rift's.

Mechanically, every movement forced, he staggered to his feet, pushing out of the bush and down the paths of the forest. A soft weight landed on his back as Shiny jumped down from the tree and grabbed onto his shoulders and he headed towards where Pride had been seen. Just as he was about to arrive, however, he froze. "No...no, I can't do this!" he whispered. "Shiny, don't make me, I can't!"

The soft tongue of the catsquirrel pushed against his scruff. You can, Huckle-friend. Make yourself do it. I won't make you. Yet Huckleberry did not turn around and run. Something was holding him in place and a moment later, that something turned into resolve. He pushed through the last of the bushes and gently called out, "Pride?"

@Pride

The stag paused, one hoof held midair for the briefest of moments. He slowly set it down, one ear flicking. His face grew grim.

Pride thought he'd seen Huckleberry a scant few times since the trials--a brown shape slinking off into the underbrush, in the distance, though he could never be sure that it had been he for certain. Mercurius had been updating him, of course, on the hybrid's progress, and Pride had left it alone--chalked it up to one of those things he'd rather not personally be involved in, anyway, and something that was in capable hands.

Yet the voice he'd heard was distinctly Huckleberry's, and the white stag resigned himself to whatever it was that the other would want. He wasn't particularly emotional about Huckleberry one way or the other--the moose-goose was purely a victim, though he was weak and fearful enough to have allowed himself to make others victims, in turn. He did not hate him; he did not, likewise, like or respect him. He was aware of him as a vague, faint, potential threat if another strong, malicious figure got ahold of him, but as this was unlikely, he simply didn't concern himself with Huckleberry overmuch. Mercurius, he knew, would handle it. There was only the faint spark of disdain, of anger, at the hybrid's metaphorical cry for help, followed by betrayal--Huckleberry had proved himself too weak to be trustworthy.

That said, a faint glimmer of curiosity was there--what did the hybrid want with him now, after so long spent avoiding him? Pride pushed through the ferns toward the voice, stately and unhurried, and behind him--questioning his thoughts, mischievously darting around his hooves--came his white rabbit familiar.

"Huckleberry?" he said, voice matter-of-fact and mild. "Yes, what is it?"

@Huckleberry

And in a moment, far too soon, Huckleberry found himself standing in front of Pride, seeing nothing but the glowing white, the perfection, the gentle, refined posture of who he had, at one point, considered a friend. An ally. But now he was more afraid of Pride then anyone else, save for Blackberry. Because of a stupid decision from a terrible, scary choice.

And he'd paid the price for it.

He hadn't faced Pride properly like this for a while. Not since the fight. He'd cowered after it, too terrified to even look at him, but now, at least, he had the courage to stand up next to him and speak. A little bit. He remembered the last time clear as day. He was standing over Cloudberry's chrysalis, begging Pride to help him. His eyes were trained on Blackberry as he slowly advanced forward and horror dawned on him as he realized what was about to happen. He screamed for Pride to stop, but he didn't. He begged for Pride to spare his mother, but he ignored him. And instinct took over, throwing him forward with a gust of wind that tossed him to the ground. And then the world was white hot pain and the last thing he saw was Pride, not even looking at him as he died.

I can't do this I can't do this I can't do this, Shiny, I can't! The catsquirrel's paws kneaded at the back of his neck. You're already here, Huckle-friend. Just do it.

He gulped, but the silence had already stretched from when Pride had greeted him without much emotion. He took a step back, feeling extraordinarily awkward, but it was just two words, two words!, that he had to say. They stuttered and they were quiet, but he managed to finally whisper, "I'm sorry..."

@Pride

Pride felt a brief, faint jolt of anger at Huckleberry's words. But he didn't respond, immediately--he stared, somewhat empty, at the hybrid as he calmed his own anger. Huckleberry was apologizing, at least--it was an attempt. Pride tempered his anger, his response coming out matter-of-fact instead. "As well you should be," he answered calmly. "But tell me--without breaking down, if you please--what are you sorry for?"

He wondered, as he stood there stiffly regal, what it was that Huckleberry regretted--or what, if anything, the hybrid held remorse over.

Pride just hoped the moose-goose didn't collapse into incoherent tears, as seemed to be his wont; it was terribly tedious to try and wring a conversation out of.

@Huckleberry

Pride stood in silence, which perhaps made Huckleberry even more nervous and terrified of him then he was before. Ears were pressed firmly against his head and his tail curled down against his body. Was he angry? Huckleberry couldn't tell. He was not good at this, at reading people. He could not even read his own emotions, then how was he supposed to read others'? He shifted a bit uncomfortably before Pride spoke.

He dipped his head a bit shamefully but then paused at the last bit. Without breaking down? Okay. This was his chance. To show how much he'd grown with Mercurius watching him. All the exercises he did at controlling his emotions. Everything he did to stop himself from breaking down. He'd show Pride that he was different, better, healing. So he raised his head up (although his ears he could not get to unplaster from the side of his head) and spoke as clearly as he could. "I'm sorry for betraying you, for going back to my family and fighting with them in the battle. I'm sorry that I attacked Rift. And for making that lightning to attack everyone. I should have stopped and left while I could but...I didn't....and...." Tears collected at the corner of his eyes while he spoke. NO! No crying! Stop it now! He took a deep shivering breath as he finished. "I paid for it. I struck down Cloudberry. M-my own daughter...and now sh-she hates me."

He closed his eyes and swallowed hard, focusing on Shiny, who was now curled up and purring gently against his back. Deep breaths, in and out, in and out. When he opened his eyes again, he was feeling more calm, especially now that he'd finally gotten it out. Even if Pride rejected his apology, things would feel better.

@Pride

Pride listened in silence.

Huckleberry was not like some--he did not simply regret the consequences that had lashed back at himself, but he seemed to also feel remorse for his actual actions. Pride inhaled through his nostrils, nodding once.

"Good," he said--and then went on, with complete, cold honesty. "My concern with you, Huckleberry, is--what will stop you from repeating this? You knew that it was wrong, the first time; if another of your family, one who survived--the wolf, perhaps--returns, or if another strong, aggressive Gembound demands it of you, what prevents you from falling in line behind them once more?"

The stag tilted his head, a little, watching Huckleberry with distant curiosity. This was his main concern. Huckleberry had already been remorseful the first time they'd met--yet he'd not had the strength of will, the strength of character, to refuse Blackberry's demands. What was to say he'd changed enough to truly resist?

"If Jayberry returned, with twenty powerful Bloodberries at her back--would you have it in you to stand up to them, were you alone? Or would you go with them once more?" His words were not heated; they were indifferent, polite, questioning.

He was wondering just how much Huckleberry had changed.

@Huckleberry

Huckleberry opened his mouth to respond an immediate No but then he paused. Pride was right - he had known everything to be bad and wrong. He didn't like killing or fighting yet he still followed his mother after all that talk with Pride and Kin-Kin. After he'd promised himself and Shiny and his friends that he would break away. He wanted to believe that it was Blackberry's controlling nature, her blackmailing him with Cloudberry, and the unconditional and dangerous love and loyalty for the family hammered into his brain, but he wasn't going to make excuses. He couldn't afford to, not after what he'd done.

His lower jaw trembled as he formed the words that were so hard to say but felt so so good to finally let out. "I won't. I'm better now. I can never go back. I only stayed...because I wanted to watch over Cloudberry, even if we couldn't speak and I wanted my Mama...I mean, Blackberry, to love me again. But she doesn't. She hates me and I don't want anything to do with her." Confidence seeped into his voice, however, as he looked back up at the stag, even anger flaring in his features. "And if Jayberry comes along, I will kill her. She hurt Yew so much for no reason and she has no chance at being better. She doesn't want to. She likes killing as much as Blackberry, maybe more. She's dangerous and insane and I hate her." Unlike his previous speech, there was nothing difficult about saying this and it, perhaps, felt even more relieving to say this. Jayberry was her sister, yes, but Huckleberry resented her. Perhaps at one point, Huckleberry felt some kind of sibling love for her, but that time was long past. She was a monster with no empathy and the scars that covered Yew's fur only fueled Huckleberry's anger even more.

@Pride

Pride listened in silence. Most of the words were right; and he believed that Huckleberry truly was angry enough to stand up to Jayberry, at least for a little bit. He nodded, some, while lowering his nose to the ground and focusing for a beat on his magic.

"I think that, perhaps, you are not wrong about Jayberry. I heard many of her words in the battle. She took great pleasure in tormenting the helpless, in causing pain."

Long ago, when first they'd met, Pride had formed Huckleberry up a gemstone. He could not remember much of it, bar that it had looked like lightning; now he tried to repeat that magic, though with a somewhat different intent. He wanted the stone to be round, polished, with soft blues and greens--calming shades, pale, perhaps a moss agate or the like. There was a soft rustle in the moss, and then the stone was there--and Pride nudged this toward Huckleberry, before taking a single step back.

"But be careful about allowing your hatred or your anger to rule you, or to define who you think you are. You do not want to run the risk of ending up like them; think about what is wrong, what is right, and then try to do what is right, impartially, and for the good of all. That is all any of us can do," he added. "Perhaps fear, misguided love, and so forth drove you before--emotion, though you knew that your actions were wrong. That can be forgiven--but terrible things done out of hate, well. That is never so easily excused. I hope that you do find peace. Your apology, incidentally," he added, with an unblinking tilt of his head, "is accepted."

And we shall see, I suppose, how much you hold to this newfound determination.

@Huckleberry

Huckleberry nodded, feeling a little more at ease now. "Jayberry used to chase lesser gembounds around and killed them as slow as she could. She'd bring them back to the cave and torture them until they died." He shuddered, remembering how absolutely brutal Jayberry had been in her youth to the lessers of the cave. It was out of ignorance for what she was doing, but when it had continued in a different way into adult years, it became a lot harder to excuse.

Huckleberry followed Pride's head down, staring at the spot on the ground. He was a little confused what he was doing. Did he know plant magic like Rift? Conjuring him a plant for...some reason? But then a little blue and green stone appeared before him and he remembered the last time Pride had done this for them. When they'd first met with the tiger's eye. Blackberry had taken that away from him. She couldn't take this one.

Huckleberry was speechless. He stepped forward and leaned down to get a better look at the little rock. He was incredibly moved by the gesture and he had no idea how to process the input he was getting. He was moved, but why? What was so important about this rock? Confused, but grateful all the same, he took it in one of his talons and handed it back to Shiny who quickly took it and held it like her life depended on it. "Thank you. I won't lose it."

He listened somberly, his head a little bowed. That was what he still struggled with, that hate that he felt, the spikes that ran him out of control, beaten over and over into him by not just Blackberry but Jayberry and Elderberry and all the other members of the family. Being surrounded by hate for so long...it was difficult to let go, even though he wanted to so, so badly. "I know. I...still have a ways to go," he tried speaking evenly and keeping himself controlled, although he felt as though he were standing on a precipice and he could not fall or he would be consumed. "I'll stay here, with the Kingdom, where they can't find me until I know I can face them. Like, really really face them."

He looked back up at Pride, relief pouring through every nerve and the last bit of tension in his body finally melting away. "Th-thank you, Pride...I was scared that you...you hated me. I know I did bad things but I'll do good things now."

@Pride

Pride listened quietly. He interjected grimly at the mention of Jayberry's slow torture of Lessers. "Blackberry did the same," he pointed out, though it wasn't an argument so much as a dark reminder. "And found children to show it to."

As to the rest--"Mhm. Ensure you continue speaking with Mercurius; he will, I am certain, be nothing but a good influence. He argued vehemently for your survival--and that of your siblings. Or, apparently, your--daughter?" Pride added, tilting his head ever-so-slightly. "I do not know what to do about that one. Do you think her liable to return to violence? We--none of us--know where she went."

"And no, I do not hate you." I dislike you. I pity you, and I dislike you. You can redeem yourself, but acts once done are not so easily forgiven, the stag thought. He'd have liked to be so gentle and forgiving as Mercurius was--that understanding--but he was not. He saw in practical terms, and in his mind, to allow one who had already betrayed back close to the heart was nothing but a liability.

@Huckleberry