“That is too slow!”

“I am the favorite. They know me better, love me more,”  the younger girl said.
Syllea looked at her sister with tears in her eyes, “Papa and Father love me too.” She replied, though her voice was flooded with doubt.
Em laughs at Syl, “Even I know you don’t believe that.”

(Continued from "A Finch's Beginnings: A Child With No Name - Part the First")

Egfor slipped out of bed and snuck out of the house again. Dem let him think he succeeded in not waking him up. He waited till the door closed before getting up and following him. Egfor was depressed last night, and Dem feared for his safety. Why did the man think he always needed to be the happy-go-lucky drunk he had to be for his old friends to him, much less his children.

I have been alone for a very long time, and yet I have never been alone.

Always, there has been Cybryn, Arugru and Minalmano. This was enough, or so I believed. My son, my faithful hound and my chatty crow. Ever was there something to do, whether it be gathering herbs for making poultices, teaching my child his letters or the ways of his ancestors, walking with my animal companions, putting to use my skills as a tailor in order to acquire a little more coin on which to live, or healing those in need in body or mind.

It was enough, and I was content.

Dem reached to take Em's and Syllea's hands, pausing to look at Egfor with an angry glare. He tugs the girls along, saying, "Come along, let us leave. He's hopeless."

Egfor desperately wanted to call out, run after them, to beg and plead for them to stay. He was rooted and silenced. None of them looked back or slowed down.

((This character is suffering a PTSD episode, it is quite disjointed as a result))