When the man spoke, his voice was low and rumbling. "Dahlia, what are you doing?" Dahlia looked over at Osiris for a moment before standing up. "There's been a mistake, Dad," she said quietly. "I can explain it all, but... he doesn't deserve to be punished. He needs help." The man squinted at Osiris but opened the door and Dahlia stepped out. "Wait here, 'Siris," she said. * * * "Does your tribe know that you go outside?"
He was watching her, his brows furrowed. He simply nodded. *** "Yeah," she said. "Being near the outdoors is an advantage for us."
She gave him a small, if a bit sad smile, following the man back upstairs. * * * "Hm... you're encroaching on private property, you know."
He looked up. "Is everything okay?" *** "You guys have land? That doesn't seem fair. We just have what area our camp is set up on."
She bit her lip, leaning against the bars. "He doesn't want to help you guys, but... they're talking, at the very least. The Council is discussing it." * * * "You get to live in the house. We don't," he retorted, crossing his arms. "We were open to having loose borders, but the House Inhabitors pushed us out."
She paused before laughing lightly. "Well... you've met my dad now." * * * "I'm sure you would. But rogues got banned from the House about three years ago."
She squinted at him. "The..." She gestured to the stairs. "The big guy? Yes. That is my father." * * * "Mm. We got pulled from our homes and forced outside."
He shrugged. "I'm just surprised." *** She frowned, her brows furrowed. "What gives them the right to make decisions like that?"
"Why?" she replied defensively, sitting down on the other side of the cell. * * * "The entire council of the House decided it. Surely you remember. Your house was represented."
"I never imagined what your parents looked like." *** She shook her head. "They didn't take my opinion on anything like that." She paused, looking over at him. "What about your mouse?"
"That sounds like a 'you' problem," she replied dryly. "I asked about your parents." * * * He squinted at her, raising an eyebrow. "My mouse?"
"I met your mom. You didn't meet mine." * * * "Munsheiner died this spring," he said flatly, tilting his head.
