Creative Corner

"Don't you think it's been too long?" Trouble asks eventually.

Caesar wonders at the Tundras chronic need to know where all their people are at all times, but as he's growing anxious also, right now he simply takes the prompt and launches himself into the air.

Redge made no secret of her growing displeasure these past few days, even acting blatantly nasty at Trouble, and now she wandered off hours ago all on her own (without even Strangler) and no sign of her continued survival through the interim.

Out of their Clan of three, Redge is the weakest. Ferocious as anyone for sure, but simply less heavy hitting, through some quirk of fate. Still hitting, though, able to defend herself just fine, and make a path to flee with all due haste should she find herself outnumbered or otherwise overwhelmed.

So Caesar is not as worried as he could and otherwise would have been, right up until he gains enough height to spot the agitated flock.

He shoots off in that direction, hoping Trouble will know to follow, and of course she does. A glance down shows her running. Leaving her to it, he catches a more fortunate wind.

As he gets closer it becomes clear the fluttering things aren't dragons, not that Caesar honestly expected them to be, but also too diverse in color to consist of any single bird or animal species. So. Harpies.

He forces himself to stay up high and survey the situation while he still goes unnoticed. Beastclan can't stand to fly at such altitudes so near to the Tempest Spire, he knows.

Their troubles appear to orginate from a stretch of ground as desert as any surrounding. He can't spot Redge's still helpfully plain colors anywhere.

Caesar tucks his wings close to his body and drops like, well, like something without any.

It has to be said, the harpies, on high alert, do take note of him before he falls onto and into their midst. At his speed it doesn't help them.

His wings snap open two of his lengths from the ground, since he doesn't much want to incapacitate himself, so those especially low are only thrown about by the resulting draft, but that's still all in the vincinty dead, hurt, disorientated or panicked. Good enough to allow him some moments to get another much needed look at the area.

There's a cave, no, too purposeful, the entrance to a ridgeback-made underground lair he couldn't have hoped to see from anywhere but directly on top of it. Even as he shouts Redge's voice echoes from within.

Caesar hestiates and for that a harpy clips him with an elemental attack. He drops the last taillength and hurries down the tunnel, equally relieved and unnerved when nothing follows. Mustn't take long, though Trouble has enough of a head on her shoulders to avoid running straight into enemy territory, unlike him, surely?

Encountering no opposition really has him question what Redge thinks she's doing down here. When he turns the last corner he gets his answer. There, on a mismatched mount of clothing between her front paws, lays a single sharply glowing egg.

---

Notes:
Orginally they were gonna wander around some more, till they found an egg, and then when I wrote the entry before this they immediately got an egg in the Coli, so.
Then i was gonna write Redge finding it at the end of her post but it got too long so I cut all of that.
It was a Plague egg orginally, but, uh, no.

Getting them all back to camp turns into an ordeal and a half and then when they finally arrive Redge turns her nose up and declares it not nearly adequate.

Noone has ever considered Trouble a violent dragon, she is sure, but now she feels the urge to at least scream at her nestmate a little.

But in a most curious role reversal Caesar crumbles like an old stonetablet. "You're right, we'll need - a cave, preferably."

Trouble takes her surprise as prompt to reevaluate the situation, check the camp and look around - at the storm overhead. Okay. Most of what she knows of harpies she learned today. Fair enough.

"Backtrack, to that cave a couple days ago?" she says. They look at her, each other, the camp, their surroundings and finally the egg Redge produced out of thin air and has yet to so much as consider setting down (or explaining).

Even though all she, and, Trouble is sure, the others as well, want to do is lie down and sleep the fright, fight and flight off, they do a slapdash job of packing up and leg it back the way they came, making better time than she expects them to.

"We already know the area, the way and our destination," Caesar points out. Fair enough. But their destination is still ways off and they are still tired after a day full of action and - days full of emotional turmoil. They're forced to make camp bout a third of the way there.

Redge moves up and about bright and early the next morning.

"I forgive you," Trouble - groans. "And for your behaviour lately, too."

Redge resettles her wings with something like a grimace and doesn't vocalize any actual apology. But she's nice to her and Caesar inbetween fussing at the egg and Trouble finds herself untensing, since that's really all she wants. For her people to be content and things interesting.

That very evening, once they've settled back into the cave, her mouth runs away from her, ruining everthing, again!

Redge lays around her pile of pilfered clothes with the egg on it, and Trouble says to her, "Now you've already got one egg, might as well make some more. Incubation-" -isn't any more work for more of them. Presuambly.

Nor any of the other concerns.

But she doesn't get to say most of that. From where she honestly thought him already asleep, Caesar jerks, again. And in the process overturns the cauldron Trouble never got to empty and clean out, since they had to go rescue Redge (and the egg) from the clans issues and whatever the beastclan was even doing respectively, spilling its overstewed contents all over Redge.

She has the presence of mind to shield the egg. And then she shoves it at Trouble and hurries out of the cave.

Not a second later the screaming starts.

After a too long second to make sure Trouble has the egg well enough in hand and gesture for her to stay, Caesar leaps out of the cave after Redge. No enemies make themselves obvious anywhere. When he realizes the issue, he thinks a fight might be preferable, even with all of them still exhausted from the last few days events.

Redge bubbles.

And convules and writhes and screams, all the markers of intense, acute pain, but the cause of it, he figures, are the bubbles popping up and just plain popping wherever the overdue brew touched her. Is touching her still, caught in her fur and running over her skin, droplets falling away and splattering everywhere, but not nearly enough, when she twitches and shakes.

Caesar doesn't dare touch her, or indeed come close.

He thinks of pouring sand over her or telling her to rub it off on the ground and stonewall, but hestiates, afraid of making it worse. Water would be ideal, surely, to wash the brew off and treat the - wounds, but of course, no adequately large body of water to be found in the desert.

Helpless, he paces a tiny perimeter and watches.

The bubbles spread even as they grow in size. The scream stutters off only to be replaced by intermittent whining and occassionally whimpers for variety. Her movements slow or perhaps grow less violent, Caesar can't quite tell. He has never been this alarmed in his life.

Trouble calls anxiously from inside the cave and he has to order her to stay put, there's nothing they can do to help. In the future he'll force all of them to wear a layer of clothing, pick themselves one permanent outfit rather than some trinkets here and there. Trouble stays inside at least, the egg winning out in her priorities rather than that much respect for his authority, he's sure, but it's not like it matters.

It ends eventually.

Redge's breath rattles, but she breathes, so.

He stalks closer to survey the heap she makes.

The colors changed, no, wrong, the coat patterns finally came in, all of them all at once, which he notes second only to 'most all of her fur is gone'. Her wings are the same, leather, nor has her tail changed, but her other limbs strike him as akward and certainly this transformation did a number on her head, fusing her antlers(?) into a single one and altogether elongating her skull?

Redge shudders and begins to cough and he rushes forward before jumping back, just too damn uncertain to commit to any one action if it's not over yet.

After another minute of torturous waiting she throws up - a pearl.

---

Notes:
I wrote this, committed to it and then wondered whether it wasn't maybe too much gore for FR. It's certainly body horror with all the unfortunate mental images, but not too descriptive surely? (How do breed changes work, anyway?) Though admittedly my threshold may be a bit skewed. Here's to hoping.
Redge's now a Tapir/Toxin/Capsule Pearlcatcher. Check her out.
In other news I've found a second egg (wind, this time) yesterday, but I'm gonna keep hold of it for now.

[center][b]thoughts[/b] [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=55171195] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/551712/55171195_350.png[/img] [/url][/center] Redge licks at her pearl and thinks the deities are amazing, to not just be able to create species, but then have them think in set ways. Five minutes ago, before she reguritated it, she didn't know anything about a pearlcatchers' pearl, except how they had one with them everywhere. Now she knows, [i]in her marrows,[/i] that it is all she is and losing it would be the worst thing that could possibly happen to her personally. "Are you okay?" Caesar asks. He hovers, still keeping half his body length away. Smart guy. Redge licks her pearl some more. It's small for her age. That's what she gets for changing species will-nilly. Everything aches and she thinks it might for a while, but compared to the prior pain it's fine. Evidently she will survive. She wiggles, grasps her pearl firmer and finally raises her head. The disdain doesn't hit her as hard as she thinks it should. Like yeah, Imperials, no thanks, Lightweaver really outdid herself on them and then didn't on her kind, Redge knows, it's obvious to anyone, but. Lightweaver isn't [i]her[/i] deity, [i]she[/i]'s a lightning dragon. And also she already loves him, Caesar's clan, there's no changing that at this point. Not that she wants to. So it's cool, it's fine. Nothing to worry about. She shakes it all off. His expression on the other hand. "Are you?" His whiskers twitch, caught. "Let's make sure you're not about to die first." Trouble comes outside for that. She doesn't help, unsurprisingly. Like, everyone's worry and displeasure has her curb her enthusiasm, but it's not like she's actually an alchemist with a formal education or an instructor or anything. She just melts things down and then throws them together later with a prayer. It's supposed to be a joke. Not. Trouble doesn't know how to treat someone, how to ascertain whether Redge is now safe or what. Never learned any protocols or remedies. Mostly she just blatantly if silently wonders how to replicate the effect. By the end of the examination Redge finds herself so ticked off she shakes all her limbs but especially her wings out sooner than is likely advisable to march past these two into the cave and curl back around her egg. It's very agreeable. More than anyone else she knows. Didn't get her - whatever this is, either. She'd really like more.

Both the egg and the revived drama cramp everyones styles. Which. But at the moment Trouble only has energy to care about how her scientific momentum is cut down at the knees.

Between Redge and Caesar communication broke down completely. Usually that would be annoying but managable, she supposes. But the egg, or rather the hatchling it will turn into (or else), requires a lot of consideration and preparation. Hatchlings are fragile.

That's why Trouble does all she's asked. Like, Redge and her sure didn't appreciate it when it was them, but she gets it now.

Caesar did a lot, and all on his own, after his entire world crumbled and they all survived anyway. Just, wow.

They need to be safe, especially with beastclan around, which is what the cave's for. They need to stay safe, since moving around would leave them open to getting drawn into fights unexpectedly, especially with beastclan around, and the clan's not large enough to have someone to spare just to watch hatchlings during.

But that means they have to stock up on food, for the while they'll be here. And really check out the area in-depth, make sure there are no surprises in store for them or the hatchling, once they're old enough to be rebellious and somewhat autonomous.

As such Trouble spends a lot of time out and about, exploring and amassing resources. Her ideal days, in short, if there were just slightly less of it, and less campaigns to get more dangerous animal colonies to move just slightly further away, so she wouldn't be as completely exhausted.

And then there's all the smaller logistics, the nitty-gritty details of raising hatchlings. The clan has one book between the three of them and not the kind lending itself to beginner level learning. Toys, okay, whatever, any random trash can end up used for games, but they've got no stuffed animals nor are they likely to find any as loot and that's a shame, and then there's all the other stuff she plain doesn't pay attention to (because it's too depressing).

Rearing the next generation takes a lot of planning and foresight. Trouble doesn't have the head for it, nor the inclination to go through this circus again anytime soon, nor in fact for just the one egg right now.

"It's not efficient!"

Equally exhausted but also worried out of his mind and emotionally tormented (on account of Redge's ongoing campaign of psychological warefare), Caesar grimaces. "More would be more work later."

She scoffs. "Agemates will be good for them, probably."

"You're just pulling stuff out of the air now."

"If you agree she'll have to forgive you. Probably. Though-"

"Did she tell you to say this?"

She blinks at him, shakes herself and continues, "-I still don't know what you did in the first place. AND I don't care!"

He slumps. She suspects he wasn't going to protest. Redge couldn't ignore him half as well if he actually made attempts to talk to her.

"The thing with the brew wasn't your fault," she says. Again, knowing full well what the problem isn't.

But Trouble wouldn't deal well with interpersonal issues even if she wasn't desperately wishing to do alchemy instead. In theory she could just set up her cauldron and do her thing by checking in sporadically, but considering recent events it might appear in ill taste.

Caesar sighs with enough general misery to ruffle her fur. Woe be him.

She wonders at magical wind attacks. Sound like it should be useless, but then again. Mhh.

"Should I just set up the cauldron to do its stuff while I'm busy elsewhere?"

"Where do you plan to set it up?" He asks.

Redge lifts her head to look over his body at the cave. "Yeah, good point."

They are as prepared as they are ever going to be. Certainly more than he was initially. Any hatchlings chances should be better with three adults to watch out for them.

And yet Caesar feels the risk to be greater. Maybe not to the egg. To him, in that he has more to lose.

Immediately after the demise it didn't much matter whether the hatchlings made it or not. He'd already hit and resigned himself to maximum loss (that any one dragon can experience).

But the hatchlings, well, they've never lost anyone, or even anything, besides some trinkets. And Redge is already so very in love with both the idea and that egg specifically.

Nevermind how it might never hatch at all.

He can't recall if he ever sat them down and talked about the realities of nests. Yeah, dragon eggs can last a damn long time undisturbed, but noone knows if this is the case here. The cave she found was made and abadoned a long time ago. Maybe someone else moved in recently, maybe even their clan, to nest. Wildclaws do that, don't they? Get it on in secret and then come back to the clans lair when the hatchlings are a little bigger?

So the egg could be old, or not. Not a particularly productive line of thought. Telling, on the other hand, is how it's just been left. And just a single one, too, not a nest full.

It glows, still, and if Caesar concentrates he can feel the magic, but even if the egg reveals a hatchling in a timely manner there could still be (or go) plenty wrong with that to prevent it surviving to adulthood.

Consenting to offspring as a form of social currency is abhorrent, probably. Doing it because he's a coward and more mean more will survive, singular deaths thus impacting less and making the hatchlings less messed up, well.

A very logical, pragmatic decision, and what's done is done in any case.

"I knew you'd see things my way," Redge says, like she won something.

Trouble and he himself did most of the convincing, in truth. Caesar watches the pearl roll from one frontpaw to the other. Really, the space to figure himself out was much appreciated. He can't put aside the adverseness completely, the way Redge seems to have. The silence didn't bother him like it would have were she still a Tundra. But noone's gonna try any other of Trouble's experiments so there's no going back.

It all reminds him of how it was with too many Imperials living around each other. Yeah, the Clan was large enough he didn't have to see more than one or two often, but none of that diminished the abrasive feeling of proximity. Likewise, if the Clan had more members he could just not bother with the Pearlcatchers, the way everyone had Before. More eggs are self-defense, really, except how all but one of them will absolutely come out as either additional Imps or Pearlcatchers.

The bulk of actually rearing the nest he's gonna leave to the hatchlings, he resolves. Who knows, maybe he'll even retain some authority that way.

---

Notes:
Nest has two eggs. Could be worse, but could also be better. Half considering also hatching that second egg after all, to grow the clan some, but nah.

[center][b]basic skill[/b] [img]https://i.imgur.com/msN07hY.png[/img][/center] Redge stretches, particularly her wings. The cave's big enough for Caesar and then them, so she wasn't constricted, especially when he wasn't in, but she didn't move around much either. Nor leave, since the initial accident. The ache's passed, now, and no further troubles have made themselves known except for how everthing's all wonky. Something that, like growing clumsiness, should pass with familiarity. She's got to move. Caesar and Trouble are staying behind with the eggs, the former asleep and the latter messing about with alchemy again and likely to delay rest a good long while doing it. In any case right now even taken by surprise either one alone would be more protection than she, since [i]she's not used to her body[/i]. She throws and catches her pearl. Especially that part of her body. Again, she imagines leaving it behind and finds she can't. How do pearlcatchers fight with one paw occupied at all times? She supposes she'll have to goad Trouble into a tussel sometime. At least she can hold it with her hindpaws, too. She takes it in one now and begins to walk. She shakes her wings out as she moves. Physically she's not all so different. Redge has seen illustrations. It could be so much worse; snapper or spiral or fae. Her limbs all face the right ways and her spine's much the same in regards to bendiness, but with so much less fur it all feels different. The wind against her skin in particular. She only knows it from Caesar flying. Stopping has her almost lose her grip on her pearl. With a huff she transfers it to a frontpaw, stretching and curling the back one till it again feels like a mobile part of her body. Without all that hair to weight her down and make her less aerodynamic she might well be able to take flight on her own now. She widens her stance, sits back, spreads her wings and can't quite figure out how to go about getting into the air. A look around reveals no audience, duh. Redge huffs, wiggles her butt and just goes for it. Jumping is almost certainly the way to go, but not like that. She flips over onto all fours. Well, three, because pearl. She rubs it against her chest and looks around again, then up. She really wants to get this. But probably flying should be categorized as an advanced skill. "Right. Ground stuff first. Like, uh, running."

Caesar agrees to stay behind with the eggs. For a guy who didn't want any, he can act perfectly considerate.

Redge takes it as her due and Trouble sees no point to anything but following her lead. With preparations squared away, this - venture has turned into a waiting game. She got some alchemy done. Not yet quite as much as she'd like, though progress's been made. But also, the eggs could hatch at any moment, so who knows when the two of them will next get the chance to mess around?

"How do you like it, now you've had some time with it?" Trouble asks.

"'It' being my body, species, appearence and way of thinking?" Redge throws the pearl into the air, catching it with a different paw without looking or breaking her stride.

Trouble shrugs. "Sure."

Redge affects a thoughful demeanor. They walk.

After a while she admits, "There are upsides and downsides to everthing." Her sincerity fades out as quickly as a single crack of thunder. "I would have liked some choice."

At this point Trouble can take the comment in the spirit it's given. She ignores it completely and instead turns the conversation down a path they haven't gone down so far. "You're pretty like this."

Redge already thought she was better than everbody else, or at least better than Trouble, but now she looks the part, too.

She jumps up an incline, the strangely tuffed tip of her tail almost hitting Trouble over the head. "Saying it like I wasn't before?"

Trouble focuses on the climb, digging in her toes as she offers, "You smell different."

Since Redge has nothing to say to that, they wander about wordlessly for a while.

They stumble over some scrub, and so take the opportunity to eat. Novel, for if they didn't fight for it, they would usually still harvest and take their bounty back to the camp, to eat there. Jokingly offer Caesar some, too. Not even that's the same. Redge likes to also eat insects now, lessening the need to focus on plants.

Trouble watches her sniff exaggerately at a flower. "Think the way I process smells changed, too."

Makes sense. Of course it would. Redge doesn't allow her the opportunity to further process the statement, pouncing on her.

The moment Trouble gets enough of a break to speak she asks, "Oh, is this what we're doing now?"

Redge grinds her head further into the dirt. "Got tired of waiting for you to get a clue."

"Maybe I was taking it easy on you." She strains against her nestmates weight. "Presuambly because I figured you'd need it, what with stumbling into me again and again, being so clumsy and all."

"Yeah, or maybe you're oblivious." Redge sounds warm, though. In a mood for banter. "I couldn't have possibly been more blatant about wanting a tussel."

Trouble bucks up, surprised to feel Redge unseated rather effortlessly. By this point they've all fought to kill. Not dragons, but all the same the instincts are there. Trouble presses her advantage till she's on top and Redge immobilized under her.

"Maybe I don't care to play today."

Redge twists. "Ugh." Fruitlessly and only for some moments before going lax. "Well? Which is it?"

"Both, I guess."

"Yeah, well. Real fights somehow seem even more undesirable than before, but nothing for it, is there. I got to get in shape."

Ah. Trouble rolls off. "And noone else you could ask."

Redge sits up and kind of... polishes the pearl on her chest? Reason that showing was even less in her favor.

"Like I'd want to. Noone else I'm raising a nest with, either."

That's like, a compliment? Affirmation? Positive emotions expressed out loud? In any case, Trouble feels all warm and fuzy at parsing it. While she's preoccupied, Redge pounces once more.

---

Notes:
Riot of Rot was kind to me. I got two eggs (Shadow and Ice), an eliminate and five (5) genes. Together with all the usual small change I should be able to gene Trouble, despite her troublesome colors. Stay tuned for that, I suppose.

When it happens Caesar is alone, the hatchlings out and about getting in some last hurrahs before responsibility arrives to suck up all their time. As well as getting Redge back up to fighting form, this time with magic as her weapon of choice, not that he was told this directly.

Caesar is alone with the eggs when they start to crackle, ambivalent static, magic, jumping in a way that warns of change. He looks out the cave's entrance where there's nothing to see. The hatchlings have gone further afield, no dangerous wildlife remains so close to their camp and the storm rolls like usual overhead.

He lies down at the opening, his bulk mostly blocking it, thus assuring nothing may get in or out without alerting and climbing all over him. With his head inside, eyes on the clothes nest, he settles in to watch.

Them gone for this might be preferable.



Eventually the hatchlings - that is to say, Trouble and Redge get back. Caesar lets them inside wordlessly.

He's not sure why he feels surprised when Trouble spazzes out and showers the teeny-tiny Mirror with affection while Redge hangs back cautiously.

Easy to be bold or straightforward when you don't care.

The lone hatchling snaps and squirms, not particularly appreciative even after eating their body weight in meat.

He tells Redge of his concerns, how Mirrors burn so much energy running around they might need to go out and get more food before long, how they're a social but isolationist species and this one might run off the moment they consider themself grown enough to go find a pack of their kind instead of becoming part of the clan, how they're not much good for conversations even as adults.

For a while it distracts her. Then Trouble and the hatchling roll to close to the nest for Redge's compfort and she calls out for them to watch it.

Trouble stills, aware from when she initially bounded in and assessed the scene that the nest lies empty.

Over time it moved to the back of the cave, furthest from the entrance and threats and most unlikely to be in the way of steps or otherwise party to accidents.

Though its contents, or lack thereof, aren't visible from the caves entrance thanks to the high border, Redge can note how Trouble doesn't so much as turn her head to check on it.

Caesar watches her step forward, not nearly enough to get a glimpse, then back. The pearl falls to the ground where it rolls away unheeded. Redge turns on him.

"Where are they?"

"They didn't make it," he says as quickly as blatantly as he can.

She takes a step forward again, before turning and running out.

---

Notes:
So yeah, both the girls had common eyes and thus didn't make it. On the other hand all egg hatches so far had not-common eyes, so there's that. RNG laughing at me, probably.

"Why are you like this." Redge asks from a safe distance away.

The hatchling, still without a name on account of how none can be agreed upon, hunts the fluffed tip of her tail she obligingly lashes about. As such they have an additional half her length distance and her bulk shields them in any case. This does little to make her feel better about Troubles latest conoctation.

"That's what Caesar said about you," Trouble says perfectly absentmindedly as she once more checks the brew.

Supposedly it's close, not identical, to what messed up Redge. That's the entire point.

Trouble's done sitting around waiting for her pattern to come in on its own.

And then there's how if it changes her breed and she lives, well, the Mirror hatchling, sitting behind Redge biting her tail, could benefit from that. Less dragon species see the need to migrate than stay at home. Chances should be good.

But also forces the question of what would Caesar have done had Trouble and her been anything but hate-to-leave-their-birthclan-Tundra?

Just cut his loses if they left, like 'oh well'?

Somehow Redge doubts it, but then Imperials; above such social needs like companship.

Trouble stirs the brew vigoriously. The cauldron tips till she rights it. Expertly, en route. Even Redge hardly startles anymore. Trouble already did this for a day and a half, to simulate movement of when they traveled. Fair enough, probably, not like Redge knows anything about alchemy.

The only reason she's here at all is because someone should be present if Trouble dumps this over her head (even accidentally) to make sure she doesn't die.

And Caesar, well, no approval to be gotten from him, which, but nor does he agree to watch the hatchling on his own. He likes them well enough, Redge is sure, but??

This time when the cauldron wobbles some of the content splashes over its side. The other side from where Trouble stands, but that's more like Redges fourth thought. She damn near jumps out of her skin at the splattering noise, and does jerk so hard her pearl goes flying and the hatchling tumbling with a cry.

That catches most of her attention and so she checks on them first. Turns out fine, just suprised, disgruntled, protesting. She picks them up anyway. The pearl lies easy to spot and already at a standstill. On the way to get it she looks to Trouble. Also fine, unsurprisingly. Had she gotten anything remotedly like Redge on her, she couldn't have kept quiet.

Trouble grimaces back at her apologetically.

"It's going to hurt," she tells her. She should know that much.

Trouble puts the lid on it before making her way over. The hatchling abadons their attempts to get at her pearl to greet her instead. Redge graciously lets them go. They headbutt Trouble in the face with their whole body. Out of enthusiasm, not agression, she thinks, but the meager size difference makes motive inconsequential.

Once everyone's sorted out with noone truly hurt, Trouble gestures, says, "Once we're back on the road I won't have the opportunity to do this."

Redge jerks her head to the side. "I suppose. Caesar won't appreciate it. Nor the secrecy."

"What secrecy?"

"He knows about this?"

"Uh, yeah?" Trouble looks at her uncertaintly.

"Then why isn't he here?"

"He didn't like watching you," Trouble says. "And of course he doesn't agree, but he does know what I'm planning. Not like he can or would try to prevent me."

Redge considers this. Adjusts her worldview to fit it in there. They are adults now, their mistakes their own to make. Sure, okay. But. "I suppose I figured disapproval would dissuade you."

Trouble focuses on the words and not the malice with which they are delivered. "For the inconsequential stuff, sure. But not when I really want a thing."

She has to entertain the thought that maybe Trouble knows Redge better than she does her.