The Killing Moon doesn’t regret leaving his children.
But he does regret not getting to know them. He doubts that he ever will, even once he returns home. There is too much time between them, too much empty space. They will be adults by now, perhaps with families of their own. They would have been well loved in his absence.
So when he meets her and their paths cross a second time, with her belly swollen with his children, he makes a decision. He will be a father. It’s unfair to the others, the ones he hasn’t yet returned to but this is his second chance and he will take it, out here in the dark Swamp.
She laughs and she leaves because he was only a fling and he is grateful he doesn't have to suffer her presence any longer. The sacs will be his and his alone.
They are easy to watch over. If he is not there, Echo or Fate or even Fortune take a turn.
The wait for their arrival is both too long and too short.
Then the day comes that they rip free from their sacs and he stands over them, almost crippled by an unfamiliar and unwelcome emotion: fear.
It is immediately obvious, even before the foals learn how to walk or talk properly, that the twins don’t need him. They don’t need anyone but each other. They seem bored by his presence and clearly resent him when he gives them instructions. He’ll be glad when they leave. They are too much like their mother with an added streak of cruelty he imagines they inherited from him. They don’t bother hiding it, they don’t bother with the smile or the game, they simply are what they are. Perhaps he dislikes them so intensely because he has always plays pretend.
Burn is strong and self-sufficient. They get along well enough, they talk about little things, he teaches her to hunt, he tells her about the rest of the family. It’s uncomplicated. He loves her but he will let her go easily enough. Her true purpose is one he instills in her, day after day. He tells her she burns for her sister, he tells her again and again that her sister must be protected at all costs.
Because it is Other Daughter that he adores. The moment he sees her, soft and fragile, spilled onto the earth and surrounded by the remains of her sac, he aches.With her he is always gentle, always mindful. Just like his brother, she receives the very best of him. Perhaps that is why the twins hate him so but he hardly cares. He only has so much love to give.
Family is everything; he will die for all of his children, over and over again but for her there would be no hesitation and no regret.
Time turns and they no longer stumble, they no longer look to him to feed them, they are nearly grown, young adults, their bodies filling out. He has to let him go.
He changes direction, leads them on a path he knows well and hasn’t walked for a very long time. Home. It calls but something else calls more. He halts at the edge of the tribe, lands he would one day inherit if he ever returns, and says his goodbyes. It’s time they joined the rest of the family, meet their siblings and find their place.
The twins don’t look back. He doubts they’ll stay long.
When it’s time to bid Other Daughter farewell, he falters, nearly decides to follow. It could be nice. They would all be together. But it isn’t time and eventually he walks away, her scent lingering from when he pressed his nose into her hair, ready to find whatever it is he has been searching for for so long.