It would have been more pragmatic had she actually gone out searching for the pack that she had done all of this for, but Breach had never been accused of being overly practical. Or thoughtful, for that matter. She was rash and hot-headed at times, merely impulsive at others. In this though, at least this particular moment, she feels justified in her actions (she always finds a way to justify them eventually, but this came easily, even for her). She had lost her mother, she reminds herself. She was to be given a pass.
Still, she feels relief at the sight of one of her oldest friends.
Relief and the kind of immense joy that is difficult for her to put into words.
She moves to embrace Mazikeen, a quick and clean contact, before she breaks away, the sweat still sticking to the curve of her neck. “I don’t know where to begin,” she replies honestly, a frown pulling at the corner of her mouth as she turns to the horizon, in the direction where she knows her mother lies.
Eventually though, she does. Find a way to begin, that is.
She tells Maze of how she had found her mother torn asunder and her body struggling to pull itself together. How Sochi had finally healed but had refused to wake up—trapped beneath the waves of effort and pain. How Breach had picked her up to bring her to a safe place. How she had negotiated the panther for this mountainous region as a place to keep Sochi safe but also as a place to carry her dream further.
When she is done, she is not sure whether she feels better or worse, but it felt right.
“So this is home.” There is a wicked gleam that shines in her eyes. “For now, at least.”
I want to swim until we both begin to feel the weightlessness sink in