Almost an automated reflex, Arjuna turned to his brother, wrapped his arms around him, rested his head on his shoulder, and hid his face under the older tom’s red hair. In response, though unlike his sibling, Alder’s actions were deliberate as he wrapped one arm his brother’s torso, set the other atop his hairless blue head, and gently pressed his brow to his. Without warning, Palm added his affection to the group by lunging forward and wrapping his arms around both brothers. Needing to include their sibling in, Alder and Arjuna each spared one of their arms to wrap around the youngest tom and pulled him into the cluster.

The tension that had dominated the room had been quickly evacuated, and a familiar sense of peace settled among the troop of assorted family members. Finally feeling a painful weight relieved off her shoulders, Avalon sailed over to Artemis and rested her face against his chest. He wrapped his arms around his lovely mate and embraced her, tightly.

“Dearest,” she began, slowly wrapping her arms around him, “he’s right; we cannot be hasty, we must think this through.”

“I know.” he replied, quietly. “I knew it the moment he stated it. He was right, I just did not want to admit it.”

“There is no shame in being wrong, even with your children. We, every single one of us, have made mistakes. Some grand, some barely worth mentioning, but it is something that we can say that we all have in common; we are not perfect.” she said, looking up at him with bright viridian eyes.

He looked down at his beloved whose dazzling eyes always reflected her love for him. In her, it was a great comfort, but in their eldest son, there was only a consistent reflection of disdain, something akin to hate. Like his mother, Alder had eyes of sparkling green, but unlike her, Artemis did not see any affection within them, at least not for him. He hadn’t seen any love for him in his son’s eyes for a long time and he feared that he never would, again. It was his own fault, he knew, even if it was a mistake made long ago, it was still a crime against his child that he would likely never be forgiven. Wearily, he pressed his brow against his wife’s, resting there for a moment while his black hair spilled into her warm red hair.

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