Lynx stares up at her teenage brother, her hero, the picture of an eight-year-old's heartbreak as she was told he wouldn't be taking her out to watch the meteor shower after all, even though he promised. She could hear Serval trying to calm her down, to explain why he was bailing on her again. Training? Training is more important than a promise?!

Tears well up in crystalline blue eyes & fall down her cheeks. "Why do you have to go to training to be a guard? Why are you never home anymore? It's not fair! You said you would take me! I... I hate the Silvermane Guards!" her lower lip wobbles, "...and I hate you!" She turns & runs out of the house as fast as she can. She'll go see the stars by herself! She doesn't need anyone else!

( throws childhood angst at you while doing test runs of the baby sibling. )

Training would be strenuous but he knew what to expect, how to navigate it, it was less severe than the censorious lectures of the tutors because he anticipated how the blade would feel clasped in his hands, its weight, the meaning behind his strikes. He is not allowed autonomy over his life but in those moments, adrenaline coursing through his veins and sweat slick upon his brow, he’s as close to freedom as he has ever felt. He didn’t have a choice, there was no way to explain it to Lynx that would have made sense, he had made a promise, he had ruined that trust, it was his fault. It had always felt like his fault. “ Lynx, please listen, It’ll only be for -” his excuses are nugatory, her anguish grows brittle, turns to seething resentment, he sees the way she cries and he wishes more than anything that he could change something - anything. “ Lynx..” she doesn’t allow him to reach for her, retreating away from him like his touch was scalding. I hate the Silvermane Guard, she weeps, furious, turning and sprinting out of the house, I hate you. he hated them too, hated his father, hated his fate but most of all, he hated himself.  Gepard would learn to withstand it, weather it with decorum, he was still young, ignorant to the ways the word could be so cruelly unfair. He has to make a decision, one that was already made in his stead. He chose the guard, even as a cadet all of his life had been preordained by their family’s heritage. His hands fall to his side, trembling fists, the tears that prick at his eyes sting. He looks to serval who gazes back at him, there’s sadness in her eyes, she rests a hand on his shoulder and he feels so much younger than he is, helpless. “ I’ll get her, it’s alright, I understand.” like it amended it, rid him of the caustic guilt that tears him open. He watches his sister leave, it’s as if it’s in slow motion, the wind whipping at her long, blonde hair, the white world swallowing her up. He implores his feet to move, to chase, to do anything - but he stands still, he made his oath, he hates this and it was but a small taste of the unjust world those three landau children would be forced to endure.