Qit saw a change come over her friend's face, though didn't quite understand it. She looked like a rabbit that come too close to being captured by a hawk, shaking, wavering. And it seemed she knew him! Qit'ria cocked her head to the side listening curiously, feeling an upwelling of warmth in her. Perhaps Faith would know where Qit could find him again! To tell him that she proudly carried his child, that she would raise it strong. That maybe he could come with her. He was strong, he would hunt alongside her. They would be able to take on anything.
For a brief moment in her fantasy, Qit imagine'd them building up their camp in Sweetwine. They'd teach their little pigeon to hunt, to throw spears. They'd chase people out of their woods. It would be their kingdom. It would belong to them, the spirits, and the beasts. Maybe Kura, though she lived just on the outs of it. She could stay there, at least. It would be wonderful. Three strong people, in the perfect home. She'd take her child to visit Faith and her kids. She'd bring her man the biggest, scariest monster on his birthtrial, ready to eat. Her mother had been a fierce, passionate huntress, but she'd been cold too. And Qit'ria didn't want to be her mother. She wanted to be better.
But then Faith continued to speak, shattering Qit's fantasy. Qit's eyes grew wide at what she heard, her lips tightening into a thin line. He... he loved another woman? Someone with a ridiculous name like Nightshade? How..? Why would he..? Qit'ria didn't care about the fact that he was a murderer, at least, not in the moment. He was a betrayer. He betrayed her. Why would he have danced with her? Joined her in her tent, if he had another that claimed him? Her grip on the table tightened to the point that her arm was shaking, a few of her nails breaking against the wood, stabbing at her fingertips.
No, it couldn't be true. If he had a mate, he wouldn't have claimed another, he wouldn't have accepted her offer. Faith was wrong. And Qit's face was one of pure rage, only further exacerbated by Faith's insistence to move on from the subject. Why would she do that? To say such things and just pretend like they didn't matter? What kind of heartlessness was that? Qit'ria ignored anything else that Faith had said in that moment, sliding off the table, picking up her clothing, leaving droplets of blood from her cut fingertips. She was wrong. She was a liar. There was no way he would've done that to her.
Qit'ria didn't bother to dress, jerking the door open, and storming out, her clothing in a bundle in her arms. She needed to get out of here. All eyes were on her, shocked at the violent arrival, accompanied by her nudity. She stormed toward the entrance, snarling at a healer that approached her, stopping them in their tracks. She dressed as she went, tying the last knot as she stepped out into the street, feeling the hot sting of tears behind her eyes, her throat constricting. One of them was a liar. Faith either lied about the man. Or the man had lied to her, by accepting her as his. She couldn't handle this. They were both family, albeit in different ways, to her.
She was looking all around her, trying to decide where to go. Part of her wanted to go to Enrick, to leave this island now, never return. Another wished to return to her woods, leave this town behind. Her spark was in her, warming the totem on her wrist, suggesting that if she wanted to run and hide, that she should do so as a mouse. She started to march away from the order when it all hit her at once. Too much time without having eaten, nor having eaten properly for a pregnant woman, the stress of the conversation, the panicked breathing, all of it caught up to her. And Qit'ria's knees simply buckled, and she collapsed there in the middle of the street, the only tear she'd shed now falling into the dust.