into the sea, you and me
all these years, and no one heard
i love you, let's go

By fate, she is cursed to lose friends. They come rare with the strongest of intentions to last, but in the end, what is to come? A short-lived time of happiness during which she pours massive amounts of trust and effort into that cuts short in a span of a few heartbeats, all wasted.
Cera is the only one to dare to stand tall and face the efforts of time, just for her, and oh how dear he has become to her in response.
So by these circumstances, it becomes difficult to put into words exactly how she feels at Hector’s return to the Throat. Most of all, she is overwhelmed, upset that he has even dared to return to any of them when the world is seemingly coming down like no time has passed, yet overjoyed that he is here, that life is still well in his bones, that he has even cared to remember them and take the brave plunge that she had previously done long ago in rejoining them.
It’s all of these feelings and thoughts and the promise of a new child(does she not have enough at this point, raising the child of her best friend and one of a careless mother, the only from her womb gone by what she tells herself is her fault) that she curses herself by that keeps her from rushing to him and screaming out whatever she feels needs to come out.
Light doesn’t burst and ignite in her dark alleyways when he makes the call for her, nestled in knee-deep water at the oasis and idly passing time as Hobgoblin gives her the occasional image of their home. Emptiness nips at her in his abandonment, even if for a few hours, his ignorant and brutish mind taking no thoughts to how she feels at what he wants. There is only him, and he must care for himself, not her.
I’m going leaps into the river of their bond with a mother’s urgency and touch. Hobgoblin barely acknowledges it and she expects nothing less in return. Neither of them are much for words or notions when the given can be understood without effort.
Physically, nothing is as easy as her thoughts. The added weight makes it so that she cannot stand without a great deal of effort, taking on bended knees and heaves of discomfort as her child urges her to stay down.
But she cannot stay like this forever. There is simply too much to do that lacks a warrant for resting in the water of the oasis.
The journey to him passes with little care for time. All that you need to know is that by the time that she reaches the red giant, Hobgoblin is there, driven by the need to inspect, to know, to see exactly what he is going to have to withstand in the future.
There is no chance that Hector will play a good card to the Rougarou, as far as he is concerned. He takes brief seconds and drowns them away in studying, looking over muscles and mass and wings before he sees nothing that interests him, and then promptly blocks away Sikeax at the rising tide of her emotions.
For her, the breath in her lungs catches and puts a stop to things, a sensation she’s no stranger to because it’s exactly what happens when the water bursts from her passageways through coughing and ushers in clean air from the other world. Yet why is it here now? Why must it make an appearance like she is going to look for something else to breathe in other than Hector’s musk?
It clots up all the words that she desperately wants to vomit out.
I loved you. I loved you like a lover, and you left me. Why? Where have you been? Do you even still love me, not in the way I loved you, but in whatever you did love me?
Swallows hard, because that’s all she can manage to do to shove them and their pleas for freedom down the drain. Hobgoblin’s strength of ignorance would have been good right about now.
“Why?” is what she comes to demand, asking a thousand questions in a single word. “Why?” Begging, hoping, searching for answers to every single one of them.
Why did you leave me? Why did you leave all of us? Why didn’t you love me when I loved you? Why are you brave enough now to make it back to me, and I not brave enough to be back to you?

OOC: casually takes forever to get you a response and for that I'M SORRY. my next replies might be slow because i can only reply on days that i'm off work(like today).
Hobgoblin is in his serval form and just sorta standing off to the side near sia and not doing shit.
and for timeline stuff, sia is pregnant with bella here, still sun physician and gaucho is dying oops.