Lake Lewisia #814

Once, he had been the one to hear those words, when he had lived in the middle of a never-ending argument about dresses and haircuts and pronouns, and the sibling-sentiment of the sentence saved him. Now he stood before a cage of creatures, milling monsters all of them, and he felt the witch's gaze and her certainty of his looming failure pressing down on him. He made his choice, held out a hand to take a paw, and offered back the words, "He's my brother," and felt the curse crack and crumble between them.

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LL#814