He was lingering by the borders… again.

A passer-by might think he was loathe to live in the Edge, unsociable and disinterested, but Sacre hovered around there for a much more important, if a little heart-wrenching, reason than that. He idled in hope of a re-union with a brother, and on this day, a chilly Frostfall afternoon, Sacre came across his fellow kin and one he didn’t expect. As the odd snowflake soaked into his fur, a lopsided, fond smile spread across his lips as the fox-boy caught a glimpse of a rare half-moon—his demi-god brother. Sacre still couldn’t quite believe he was related to a son of the Moon, he also never really wanted to hear the stories of d’Artagnan’s past… apart from this one. However, it was the one story that his father was least inclined to recall, as if some great shame weighed on him that it was too much for even he, the Nightshade, to whisper from memory. Each time the old Doctor had mentioned Mesec he seemed... laboured by something. So much so that, despite being brothers, Sacre knew very little about the Nightwind, only that they were half-siblings and he had only just found that out. 

The Nurse was one fox down again, this time it was Inari who had gone hunting, leaving a disgruntled Ríona to gingerly pick her way through the snowy Worlds Edge whilst she grumbled in Sacre's head about deserts and sunshine. Though the fox-boy was now far too pre-occupied with pouncing upon a brother he never knew he had. 

"Hey brother" he called, enthusiastically bouncing his way towards Mesec, feeling a sudden surge of happiness that finally he had found a family member. As usual, Sacre had about a trillion questions that he wanted to ask, but this time he took a moment, a breath to pause and revel in his newfound connection that hadn't existed before. They had even shared the same herd at one time and not once had the fox-boy realised the relation, making him feel a little dim. Five years old and not at any point had he known that he had an older brother... Had Aviya known? Or Nao? Out of all the things that Sacre wanted to say, his sentimentality won out in the end "I missed you" for all those times that could have been, had I have known.

Putting aside his dewey-eyed emotions, his expression becoming thoughtful, he wondered how to start. How did he begin to get to know a brother he never knew he had? There were so many question marks in his head, but Sacre had only just realised that perhaps he might be interrupting Mesec, although part of him also wanted to barricade the way so that his brother could not leave until the fox-boy's insatiable curiosity was satisfied as could be possible. Yet, where intrigue may have won in the past, Sacre had since learnt the wisdom of manners over greed and, not without a small pout, he reeled himself in "do you mind if I keep you company?" he asked with hope.

He was more than glad that Mesec had been actually looking for him, it meant that Sacre could take up all of his time without feeling guilty, perhaps the Nightwind might regret looking for him later when he realises that his newfound sibling could talk endlessly without much need for pause. If the Words Edge ever hosted a "who can talk the most" championship then Sacre would most likely win it every year. Of course, the fox-boy had many things to ask Mesec, though he was interested most in what Mesec wanted to know. How much did his half-brother know about their family? Did he know he had other siblings? Cousins? Uncles? Aunts? d'Artagnan had shared blood with many in Helovia. Even Sacre didn't know all of their family. He had met Mesec a few times before in passing, thinking him a friend, but never once did he guess a sibling. So when his broken father, chained between damning sorrow and the oblivion of insanity, had enlightened him after Aviya had died, Sacre had been more than surprised to say the least. That his father had kept such a big thing from him and that, for almost five years, there wasn't a moment the fox-boy guessed the truth. 

When Mesec asked he shook his head "no" Sacre was certain that even if he had known, Mesec would have too, the fox-boy was awful at keeping secrets, even if, once upon a time, he had been the king of spies. "Only recently, our father told me about you not long after Aviya died... I followed him when he left Helovia" out of concern he had followed the Nightshade, if he hadn't he might still be ignorant now about his relation to Mesec and about what had happened to his eldest sister, though Sacre was certain he would have heard about it soon enough. At least it had been from his father and not second hand from a stranger. "How much do you know about our family?" he asked, perhaps Mesec might know something Sacre didn't or vice versa; how much had d'Artagnan hidden from him? Apart from the dead bodies, of course.

Since learning of the Nightwind the fox-boy often thought back to his childhood, his innocent youth spent mostly beside Roux with a dream of one day curing his twin's daytime blindness, but in all those memories he never once saw a clue about Mesec, not even in hindsight. Had Aviya known Mesec? Admittedly, Sacre had always been intimidated by his eldest sister, thinking she was the eldest child of his father, although he had loved her all the same and would have looked to her for guidance. Back then, living in the Basin was easy... If you had a horn that was. "What happened... Between you and father?" he asked lastly, gently, softly, wondering if Mesec had grown up in the Aurora Basin or... the Worlds Edge? Sacre knew hardly anything about before the Aurora Basin. Maybe he had lived amongst the stars before descending to earth, in any case, he could almost imagine his own father's expression when he was presented with a son with wings—he hoped for Mesec's sake that it was his mother, the Goddess, who stayed by his side. 

The more Sacre thought about it the more he wistfully realised that, really quite truthfully, he didn't know very much about his family. Even Mesec, the more he thought about it, the half-brother who had lived apart from him and Roux, probably knew about as much as he did. Sacre didn't know that d'Artagnan had many cousins, a sister, a niece and he certainly didn't know that some of them lived in Helovia. In essence, he knew diddly squat when it came to the many blood ties that extended across Helovia and beyond. He already had enough problems trying to keep track of his closest siblings, who liked leading him a merry dance, to which he had only seen Mesec and Raeru recently, so it was probably in the fox-boys best interest that he knew nothing about the others who shared blood with him. Ah! Yet here he was, forgetting Mesec's dear two children, his niece and nephew, whom Sacre so desperately wanted to meet. Though the healer would be sure to mention them later, right now his attention was fixed to the Moon's son and his recollection of the Nightshades other children. 

As he rattled them off, Sacre smiled and nodded, he knew all of them by name at least apart from one, but even Sacre hardly knew anything about her. "You almost have them all" he grinned lopsided before his expression turned sadly thoughtful "yes there was Aviya" dead "there is Nao also, though I haven't ever seen her" missing "Roux... my twin brother" beloved other-half, also missing "and the youngest, Ráeru" a pearl amongst rocks—not missing. "Ráeru is actually here, in the Worlds Edge, she's a healer" he beamed proudly, he still didn't know very much about his little sister, but he loved her very much all the same. However, one part of Mesec's reply didn't go unnoticed and Sacre zoned in on his brother, his gaze suddenly pleading and very intense "where did you see Roux? I have been looking for him for seasons" his words were almost dire, how many times and how many Helovians had he asked about Roux? He didn't care, the more information he had, the more his chances narrowed down.... He hoped. Sacre wouldn't stop until everyone knew he was looking for a precious red boy and the name, Roux, whispered on every gust of wind then maybe, finally, his infuriatingly elusive twin might open his ears to hear his brother who so desperately called his name.

As usual when Sacre thought about his freaky family, his emotions went wild like being on a rollercoaster, hurtling him through nostalgia, pain, hope and sadness. Kou. Sacre had adored his mother, so when stumbling across her mangled body one fateful day in the Thistle Meadow was shocking to say the least, it wasn't even enough to say that he was crushed by it. He still avoided the Meadow if he could because of it and, to this day, had never mentioned his mother in conversation again. Though still he smiled gratefully at Mesec, nodding a silent thanks, but said nothing of her. 

"There may be more, but this is all I know" he humorously shrugged, still wondering if any other relative might worm its way out of the woodwork and he too hoped that maybe there might be more to this oddball family.

The fox-boy was sadly unsurprised by Mesec's admission of neglect as a child, the misfortune of being born with the blessed ability to fly in a herd under the rule of racist Unicorns was never going to end well, the Nightshade's bigotry made sure of that. Sacre didn't know if d'Artagnan ever truly cared for Mesec though he sincerely hoped his father had, under all the rough exterior he displayed, that blurred the lines between deceit and honesty. "I'm sorry... So sorry Mesec" Sacre bowed his head, his blue eyes glittering sadly, if his father wouldn't apologise, his son would. The fox-boy also felt a little guilt, he had believed the dribble of unicorn supremacy when he was younger and it wasn't until Lace instilled some doubt in his mind that Sacre began to think otherwise.

"I never saw him much either" he admitted too, Sacre was always rather scared of him as he could never guess his mood from one day to the next. Though he couldn't imagine the kind of frightening moments Mesec went through as Sacre's single, crimson horn made sure he was treated like a true son of d'Artagnan, like Mesec should have been. "Sometimes I wonder about why he was like that, what made him so angry all the time, so annoyed... Was he saveable?" had there ever been a moment when the old Plague Doctor could have been rescued from his own contempt. 

To live with so much hatred must have been agony. 

Sacre took the downturn in conversation as an opportunity to lighten it, looking at Mesec curiously as he remembered what he wanted ask earlier, "your children, how are they?" he chimed, intrigued to know more about his brothers young family.