Oscar turned around and walked back towards Rose. “What’s wrong?” He didn’t touch her, knowing very well she wasn’t comfortable with unapproved touch. The rest of the group paused and turned to the two of them. Rose was shaking, her eyes shifting between green and orange. Her fists were clenched hard, nails nearly breaking her skin. “I- can’t! no! He never said that!” She slashed at the wall, her nails growing out into long claws and cutting into the stone wall. Oscar flinched back but looked back at her. He wasn’t scared of her, just caught off guard. Meanwhile, everyone else looked afraid. “Hey, Rose- look at me.” He waved his hand at her before holding his hands up to let her know he wouldn’t hurt her. She needed to know she was safe. With him, she was always safe. She whipped her head around, her breath ragged. The red fox tail flicked behind her, twitching as she struggled for control, ears pressing flat against her head. The fox was clawing its way out, fighting for dominance. But Rose—Rose was stronger. And she had someone willing to fight for her, too. This scene was all too familiar to Oscar. He knew how this worked. He had pushed the fox away before, had seen her battle it, had watched her eyes flash between worlds—between the woman she was and the creature she fought against— He didn’t hesitate. He stepped closer, holding his hand out, unwavering. “It’s alright, you’re safe. No one is going to harm you.” The air hung heavy between them as Rose’s breathing slowed. She knew his voice. She trusted his voice. She sniffed his hand cautiously before turning away, her ears and tail vanishing. The colors of her eyes settled, though he could still see the remnants of fear behind them. Then she turned back, and that look—helpless, broken, like she might shatter if he wasn’t standing there—hit Oscar harder than he expected. Oscar instantly pulled her into a hug, holding her close and caressing her head. “It’s alright.” He didn’t care what anyone else thought. He just wished for her to believe it. Rose stiffened in his hold. Then her fists tightened again—not in fear, but frustration. “No-“ she blurted out, anger dripping off her words. He knew it wasn’t directed toward him, but it still hurt. “It’s not alright! I could have hurt you! Or them!” Oscar held his breath. She was angry at herself, and part of him understood why. She hated needing help, hated feeling weak. But to him and everyone else, she was anything but weak. Before he could say anything else, she stormed off. And Oscar stood there, watching her go, feeling the faintest warmth from where her body had just been pressed against his. He let her go, though part of him burned to follow For Rose to calm the rage inside her, she had to be alone. She went to the side of the building and slumped down, burying her face in her knees. Her breath, uneven and ragged, was caught in her throat as she fought to steady herself. The warmth of Oscar's touch still lingered, but instead of comfort, it fueled her frustration. She wasn’t supposed to need anyone. Not like this. Not when she couldn’t even trust herself. Her claws had receded, but the faint sting in her palms where her nails had nearly broken skin reminded her of how close she had been to losing control. Again. How many times would this happen before she truly became unrecognizable? The night air was cool against her skin, but it did nothing to ground her. She curled in tighter, gripping her arms as if the pressure might force the chaos inside her to settle. She needed to be alone. But she didn’t want to be. The others stood in front of the building in tense silence, their expressions painted with concern and uncertainty. Selestia, who came outside due to the commotion, was the first to approach Rose. She stepped forward with slow, measured movements. She had sensed the shift in Rose’s energy, the sharp spike of fear and rage, and knew better than to overwhelm her. Instead, she offered presence–a quiet reassurance without demand. Oscar lingered only a few feet away, his jaw tight, his fingers twitching at his sides as if he was resisting the impulse to pull Rose back into his arms. She had pushed him away, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe she didn’t really want him to leave. Sakura stood still, her arms wrapped around herself, gaze flickering between Rose and Mahou. Indigo stood beside her, unreadable, though his stance betrayed his worry–tense, protective, ready to step in if Rose lost herself again. Mahou’s eyes followed his daughter carefully, his chest heavy with emotions he refused to voice. He had seen her battle herself before, and each time, it tore at him. He was her father—he was supposed to protect her, supposed to fix things. But this? This was something he couldn’t simply shield her from. Selestia finally crouched beside Rose, close but not intrusive. Her voice was steady when she spoke. “You don’t have to fight this alone,” she murmured. Rose squeezed her eyes shut, her body still tense, but she didn’t pull away. The silence between them wasn’t empty—it was something fragile, something unspoken but understood. The others watched, waiting, hoping that she would pull herself back before someone had to reach for her. Rose slowly got up and sighed softly. “I'm fine now, thank you.” Her green eyes sparkled as she appreciated how much they all cared for her. Mahou sighed, feeling the weight leave his shoulders as he watched Rose come over to join everyone. She smiled softly and went to Oscar, “I’m sorry I made you worry.” Oscar’s eyes flickered with an unreadable emotion before settling into a quiet understanding. He chuckled lightly, shaking his head. “You don’t need to apologize to me.I understand. But, next time…let me be there, alright?” Rose paused for a few moments, staring at him before smiling softly and nodding. Mahou watched the exchange, his lips pressed into a thin line. Despite everything—despite the danger, the unknown future ahead—his children had something rare. Something unbreakable. And that, more than anything, gave him hope. With a small nod and gesture to the horses, Mahou spoke up, “Let’s go. We have work to do."