That first night back at Andridis's farm was full of music and good food, celebrating the defeat of the strix. Moffitt wasn't someone who enjoyed parties, but there was something sweet and refreshing about how Troy's Greek cousins kept going to look for him every time he disappeared, in order to ask if Moffitt was doing alright. He was polite, saying he just needed a moment to breathe, and that he would return in a few minutes. He appreciated not being forgotten.

There were points where Moffitt wondered if it was better that he stay with the party, as being alone allowed his less pleasant thoughts to breed. He kept thinking back to what he had nearly done in the mountains. The last thing he wanted was for this to fester, and he also didn't want to tell his wife. There was no way Vanora would handle this well. With all that in mind, Moffitt decided they needed to make an extra stop being going back to Britain.

When the party began dying down, Moffitt approached Troy, and whispered that he wanted to talk when they went back to their hotel room. Troy looked a bit concerned, but nodded and said he wouldn't forget. They both showered first when they returned to their hotel, though Moffitt took his time as he tried to figure out how to word what he wanted to say. It shouldn't be difficult, he felt, though he imagined Troy just wanted to go home at this point. He left the bathroom, and took Anah from his pillow to set her on his lap. She stretched up to rest her head on his right shoulder, and wrapped the lower part of her body around his waist.

"Alright, Moffitt, what's on your mind?" Troy asked. "You've had that 'thinking face' of yours on all night."

"I know. I… I was thinking we make a stop at Dietrich's before we go home," Moffitt said, gently stroking Anah. "I think we should talk to him about everything that's happened."

Troy thought for a moment, then nodded. "Okay. We can do that."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Dietrich knows how to organize both of our mental clutter."

"I was under the impression that you just wanted to go home."

"I do, but I think talking with Dietrich is a good idea, so things don't build up and drive us both crazy."

"Alright." Moffitt sighed. "At least we can just enjoy the next couple of days before we go."

"Yep. Are you doing okay, though?"

Moffitt didn't respond.

"Hey—" Troy reached over from his bed to gently nudge Moffitt, "You didn't go through with it. Everything's okay now."

Moffitt nodded a little. "I know, but it's…"

"Disturbing?"

"Yes."

Troy squeezed his shoulder. "Just so you know, I would've gone in to help you the moment I found out, no matter what."

Moffitt felt Anah's tail stroke his back, and he responded in turn by touching Anah's back. He glanced back at Troy. "Thanks."

"I probably already said this, but I wouldn't have blamed you for assuming I went to the river. It makes sense. Now that this is all over, I'm glad we didn't have to go through that. Again." Troy smiled and gave Moffitt's shoulder a pat. "We'll talk to Dietrich and he'll help organize your thoughts."

The next few days were spent touring the Greek countryside. Troy wasn't able to be out for long stretches of time due to his concussion, and Moffitt even noticed he was sleeping in and taking naps during the day, which was quite unusual to see.

Before Troy, Moffitt, and Anah were to head to Athens to catch their flight, there was one last feast with Andridis and Kappoulis, as well as some gifts. For Moffitt, there was a big box of Greek mountain tea, as well as packets of seeds to grow his own. For Anah, a book of Greek recipes compiled from many generations of Troy and his cousins' family. Lastly, for Troy, there was the little jackal carving, a crucifix once belonging to his great-grandfather that bore a dent from an Ottoman bullet, and, as a bit of a joke, a bottle of retsina.

"You do realize I'm not drinking this, right?" Troy said with a laugh.

"Display it on a shelf!" Andridis said. "Or maybe try it again. Who knows? Maybe you will acquire a taste for it. After all, Anah says you have eaten and drank some unusual things."

Troy turned to glare at Anah, whose only response was a smile. He then turned back to Andridis, his glare fading. "Well, I'll give it some thought." He let out his breath after setting the bottle down. "It was good to meet you. This was really unexpected, but worth it. Don't worry—I plan on staying in contact with you."

"It was good to meet you as well, Samuel," Andridis replied, tears in his eyes. "Please, come visit us again soon. We will miss you."

They both hugged before Troy turned to Kappoulis. "Thanks for… everything, I guess," Troy said.

"You are welcome," Kappoulis replied. "I am glad to have helped you get one step closer to being at peace with yourself. When you are ready to confront your mother, rest assured I will be by your side."

"As will I," Andridis added.

"Thanks." Troy's smile returned when he faced Lavrentis, and ruffled his younger cousin's hair. "Stick with being on your best behavior, kid."

"I will," Lavrentis replied. "And thank you for defeating the strix."

Troy nodded, then stepped aside so Moffitt could say his goodbyes. Moffitt expected there to just be handshakes for him, but he was hugged as well, and thanked for having been a good friend to Troy all these years. He paused by Lavrentis last, and said, "You have the makings of a fine horseman. I had fun teaching you."

"Thanks," Lavrentis said. "It was a joy to learn from you. I wouldn't mind visiting England one day to learn more."

Moffitt smiled. "I would be happy to host you. Which reminds me, I will be sending you a Christmas present—a snake hook. Now, your parents' minds will be put at ease when you are removing snakes from your property. I will also be sending some vials of antivenom potions for local species, just in case something does go wrong."

"That would be appreciated, Jack, thank you," Andridis said.

Moffitt and Troy lingered a bit before finally turning to leave the farm with Vasilakis. During the drive to Athens, Moffitt looked out the window to see the form of a white vulture flying high above them. He smiled before saying, "I hope we'll have a chance to say goodbye to Kavi."

"I'm sure we will," Troy replied.

"It was good to see him again," Anah said. "I am glad he helped you, and that you gave him a chance to help you."

"Getting help from a vulture wasn't something I was expecting. I certainly won't look at them the same way ever again."

When they arrived at the airport, Vasilakis helped Troy and Moffitt with their luggage, then gave Troy a hug. "It was good to see you again, Samuel. I promise, I will visit you in Wyoming, especially when you are ready to confront your mother." He grinned. "There are plenty more stories of our time in North Africa together that we can tell your friends."

"It was good to see you, too, Alekos," Troy said. "I'd appreciate your help when… when I'm ready for that."

Moffitt turned when something landed on the hood of the car, and spotted Kavi strutting over to the edge of the hood. The vulture turned to Anah first. "I wish you well, Anah. I am glad you have found a place you are happy with."

"Thank you," Anah said. "Are you not staying?"

"No, unfortunately, but I will be around, and if you ever need me, you can always call me. Just whisper my name into the gust of an easterly wind, and I will come." Kavi turned to Troy. "I owe you, Troy, for saving my life in the ravine."

"Don't bother," Troy said. "I was just doing the same thing I've been doing—making sure you can go home at the end of the day."

"Still, I am in your debt. I hope we will see each other again soon. It was quite interesting to be working with you."

"There's never a dull moment with Troy," Moffitt said, smiling.

Troy sighed, then grinned. "You know what? I won't argue with that. I'd rather be interesting than boring."

"While that is sound advice to live by, never forget to slow down once in a while," Kavi said. He adjusted his wings a little. "I take it you are going home?"

"Not yet," Troy said. "We're… stopping at Dietrich's first."

"I see." Kavi looked at both Troy and Moffitt. "You both have come a very long way in your personal journeys. Your willingness to ask for help is proof of that. I wish you both well. And you as well, Anah." The vulture moved like he was going to take off, but remained still for a moment, looking over the men and the snake. He gave a nod, then flew off of the hood of the car, flying higher and higher until he disappeared completely.

Moffitt glanced at Troy as they began walking into the airport entrance. "You weren't hoping he would stay with you, were you?"

"No," Troy said. "Besides, I already asked. He said Anah's special."

Moffitt grinned. "But were you hoping—"

"Of course not. I'm not that soft."

"Oh, dear," Anah said. "I think you are softer than you would like to think."

"Anah—"

"Especially in your jackal form."

Troy sighed and rolled his eyes. "Look, we're hopefully not going to see that form ever again, so don't get too excited."

"You say that now, but we will see."

They said their goodbyes to Vasilakis before entering the airport, then things were silent between them as they waited to board their flight. Moffitt kept looking at Troy, wondering what he was thinking as the positive feelings from the last few days began to die down, and they both began reflecting on everything that had happened. The vision, the strix, and Troy finally grasping the full extent of his abilities were all completely unexpected. Moffitt anticipated Troy to say something, but Troy looked to be deep in his own thoughts. They boarded their flight in silence as well, and remained quiet for the first hour or so. Finally, Moffitt broke the silence, while petting a sleeping Anah on his lap. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah. Why?" Troy asked.

"Just… this trip was far more eventful than any of us were expecting."

Troy didn't respond for a moment. "Yeah. Yeah, it was." He picked up his cup of coffee to take a sip.

"Are you… happy with what you've learned?"

"I wouldn't say 'happy.' I think 'satisfied' is the better word." Troy looked at his coffee again. "We'll talk about this again after Dietrich helps sort this all out. It's all hitting me right now, and I… I don't want to say something I don't mean."

"Fair enough."

It was only eight in the morning when they arrived in West Germany, an hour behind Greece. Moffitt felt bad that they might be waking Dietrich, but Troy was insistent on going anyway. He nervously glanced at Anah when they reached Hammelburg, and Troy boldly went up to the front door, knocking a few times. They heard someone running for the door, and it opened to reveal Anselm, Dietrich's nephew who had fled East Germany a few years prior.

"Hello, Troy," Anselm said. "What are you doing here? Uncle Hans didn't say you were coming."

"We just got here," Troy said. "Last-minute trip. We came from Greece."

Anselm looked greatly confused, but also concerned. "Our furlough starts today. Oh, Uncle Hans is not going to be happy."

"Is he still asleep?"

Anselm froze when a door was heard opening upstairs. "Well, he was. Do you want an open or closed-casket funeral?"

A greatly disheveled Dietrich came down the stairs. He gave a heavy sigh before grumbling, "Who the hell is at the door and why have you not told them to go away?"

"It's Troy and Moffitt, Uncle," Anselm said.

"I knocked this time!" Troy said happily.

Dietrich gave him the iciest, most rage-filled glare that Moffitt had ever seen, and his messy hair and stubble made it worse. "When I am more awake, I would like to strangle you, Troy."

"Why? I knocked. You're always telling me to knock."

"That is not why, you fool! Care to explain why a jackal was in my yard last week carrying a note that just said 'Hi' with your signature?!"

"Oh, yeah, that! My message made it. See, it's a long, long story, so why don't you go shave and have a cup of coffee and we'll talk, okay?"

Dietrich sighed and turned to head back upstairs while growling and cursing in German.

"We better start making his coffee," Moffitt said.

"Are there enough ingredients to make a custard?" Anah asked.

"There's no time, but there are cookies in the refrigerator," Anselm said.

"Good enough. I hope."

Moffitt took charge of brewing coffee, not bothering to make his tea until he could ask Dietrich for permission. He stayed out of the way when Dietrich came back downstairs, now stubble-free and looking somewhat more presentable, but still extremely grumpy.

"Why is it always at the very beginning of every furlough that you people show up to bother me?" Dietrich muttered.

Moffitt bit his lip. "I'm sorry, Dietrich, this was my idea. I-I suggested—"

"No, no, no, Moffitt, we're not doing that," Troy said. "Yes, this was your idea, but I was the one who insisted we come here at eight AM instead waiting a couple of hours."

Dietrich picked up his coffee, then Anah pushed a bowl of cookies in front of him. He stared at her for a moment while she tilted her head and stared back in an effort to look innocent. He sighed again before pulling the bowl closer to him. "Perhaps I will be impressed that enough neurons fired in your brain to give you the idea to knock, Troy, once I have finished more of this coffee. I would be even more impressed if you had waited until a more civilized hour."

"At least he didn't climb the fence this time," Moffitt said.

"True. I will give him that." Dietrich took a sip of his coffee, and started to look a little less furious. "Alright. Why have you all come to my house?"

Moffitt, Troy, and Anah took turns describing what happened over the last few weeks. The whole time, Dietrich had an expression of confusion, fascination, and a touch of sympathy. He was also exchanging looks with Anselm, who was also listening carefully, a thoughtful expression on his face.

When they finished talking, Dietrich looked into his empty coffee cup, and drew in a breath. "I really have established myself as the 'team psychologist' if coming to me was your first thought when this little adventure of yours was over." He set his cup down. "Alright. One 'patient' at a time. Moffitt, you first. Outside."

Moffitt stood, pausing when Anah slithered toward his arm.

"No," Dietrich said. "Alone. Trust me."

Anah nodded understandingly before returning to the counter.

Moffitt put his jacket on while following Dietrich out into the yard. The trees were all turning and some were dropping their leaves, making the yard a bit of a mess. The apple trees were looking ready to be picked, but some apples had already fallen and were beginning to rot.

"Mind where you sit," Dietrich said. He sat across from Moffitt after making sure the space was clear of fallen apples, sitting in silence for a moment. "Well, you all certainly had an adventure."

Moffitt nodded. "It's been a few days, but I'm still… a bit in shock over what happened in the mountains."

"As anyone would be."

"Troy insists that it wouldn't have been stupid of me to do, because I didn't know he wasn't actually at the river. I… I feel it would have been stupid. When it really bothers me, I feel I wouldn't have deserved help, but I know that's also a stupid thing to think."

"You are still fighting your habitual self-loathing, but as I have noticed over the past year, since your first hypnosis session with me, you have improved. You have been fighting it with a bit more vigor."

"You're right. I have." Moffitt looked down at the colorful carpet of leaves in front of him. "I'm just disturbed by the 'what ifs' of this situation."

"The 'what ifs' of being bitten by Mahlah last year haunt me as well."

"How do you deal with it?"

"Well, I do not regret it—not entirely. I am glad to have saved Troy's life, but I did not enjoy getting into arguments with my wife, nor did I enjoy the lingering symptoms. For a few months after I was bitten, I had moments of pins and needles or numbness in my left arm. The first time it happened, I thought I was having a heart attack. I was on duty at the time, so, as calmly as I could, I went to the infirmary, told a medical officer what was going on. He immediately had me looked at, and, thankfully, determined I was not having a heart attack. The story of my black mamba bite had already made the rounds, so the medical officer asked me if it was true. We both theorized this was some sort of lingering effect, especially since I had waited longer than I should have for treatment. I did worry that these sensations were going to be permanent. Sometimes, I could ignore them, and other times, they made certain activities impossible."

"Did you tell Esther?"

"I did not want to. I kept it hidden for about a month until I sat down to play the piano and found it difficult to do so. Esther could hear all of my blunders—and the cursing that went along with it. She asked if everything was alright, because she had never heard me mess up my notes like this before. I chose to tell the truth, despite being worried that she would be angry. Instead, she asked if it was possible this could be fixed. I said I was uncertain."

"You never told any of us about this."

"I told Troy, but I asked him to keep it between us until I knew for sure if this was permanent or not. It resolved about this time last year."

"That's good."

"Indeed. Before it did, though, I was prepared to accept it as a consequence of my actions. It would have been worth it, because a bit of tingling and numbness is preferable to losing someone I have come to call my best friend."

Moffitt grinned a little. "Even though he woke you up on the first day of your vacation?"

"Yes." Dietrich sighed. "My life would not be the same without things like that. Taking such a risk was appropriate. Troy saved my life. It seemed only fair for me to do the same."

"Well, it seems only logical that you continue the pattern you two developed during the war."

Dietrich smirked. "Quite right."

Moffitt's own smile faded when he looked back at the ground. "So… I'm guessing the moral of the story is that I should tell Vanora."

"Tell her when you feel ready."

"That might never happen."

"Give yourself time. I completely understand why you want to say nothing, but I do think you should at some point. You can always talk to me if you need help."

"I appreciate that. Thank you." Moffitt went quiet for a long moment, glad that Dietrich wasn't pressuring him to talk or do anything. "I never want to be in a situation like that ever again."

"No sensible person would. It could still happen, though. If the person needing help was Vanora, or Jules, or Anah, I know you would do whatever you could to help them."

Moffitt nodded. "I wouldn't stop until I knew they were okay."

"Even at the risk of your own life?"

"Yes. No matter what. They're in my life despite me claiming, a long time ago, that I didn't feel I deserved them. I will fight for them, just like I did for Troy, Hitch, and Tully back during the war. They accepted me when no one else did."

"And now your little unit of misfits have grown into a family."

"Yes. We… We certainly have." Moffitt drew in a breath. "I will tell Vanora at some point. Not now, but I will."

"Good. Is there anything else you would like to discuss?"

Moffitt glanced to his right when he sensed the presence of an adder slithering under the leaves near the fence. "I can't think of anything at the moment." He stood, and picked up the snake, letting it explore his hand.

Dietrich remained where he was. "Let me know if you do."

Troy kept glancing out the window at Moffitt and Dietrich as they talked, hoping everything was going okay. He was feeling better in terms of his concussion, but still had headaches every so often. He was just glad he could drink coffee again.

Things brightened up for a moment when Dietrich's five-year-old son, Gunther, came downstairs, and went running into the kitchen. "Uncle Troy!"

"Hey, Gunther! Come 'ere, you!" Troy scooped up the boy. "Watch my head, though."

"Your head? What happened?"

"Oh, I hit it a little too hard."

"Really?" Gunther's brown eyes widened. "Daddy says you have a head that's hard as a rock!"

Both Anah and Anselm snorted to themselves.

"Yes, I do," Troy said. "Just not literally." He adjusted his grip on Gunther. "Have you been doing good in school?"

"Yes," Gunther said.

"You telling the truth? Christmas is in a few months, and this is when Santa starts checking his lists on who's been naughty and who's been nice."

"Of course I'm telling the truth, Uncle Troy."

"Okay. You know Santa will be asking your mama and daddy about that."

"I know." Gunther put his head on Troy's shoulder. He then tried to scramble down from Troy when the back door opened. "Uncle Moffitt!"

"Good morning, Gunther," Moffitt said.

"No running in the house," Dietrich said firmly.

"I'm sorry, Daddy." Gunther slowed down, then opened his arms to be picked up by Moffitt.

"Oh, good gracious, you're getting heavy," Moffitt grunted as he lifted Gunther. "I won't be able to do this for much longer."

Troy watched them until Dietrich tapped his shoulder. "What?"

"Next patient. Your turn," Dietrich said.

Troy followed Dietrich into the backyard, sitting in the same place he had seen Moffitt. "I'm going to start by saying that I don't know where to start."

Dietrich sighed. "How about we start with the fact that you finally, finally understand your abilities? After twenty-four years, you finally have a full grasp on them. I never thought this day would come."

Troy couldn't tell if Dietrich was being sarcastic or not. "I had hoped that what I learned before the battle with the magpies would be it. I thought you'd be happy with the messenger jackal, by the way. Kavi taught me how to do that."

"Oh, so are you telling me to blame Kavi? You were the one who made the decision to send that damn animal all the way here from Greece just to say 'hi.'"

"Well, you were the one who kept telling me that I needed to learn how to use my magical powers and all that."

"I was not the only one saying that, but just because I did does not mean that you have the right to be annoying me with your newfound abilities. They were not given to you in order to be misused."

"At least a little mischief isn't the worst thing I can do," Troy said. "I'm not going to go take over the world with jackals, or hurt anyone with them."

"That is true." Dietrich relaxed. "Jokes aside, I am glad that you are in control of this. You know how to be responsible with this."

"Kavi and Vissarion said the same thing." Troy went quiet. "Kavi also said that you would be able to help me induce a state in which the white jackal can come out."

"If you really want to learn that, we will wait until you recover from your concussion. I do not want to strain your brain—and, no, that was not a joke about your intelligence."

"I know." Troy reached over to playfully nudge Dietrich. "I'm good with waiting a little while anyway. I just wanted to know if he was right."

"Yes, Troy, Kavi is right. Frankly, I would not mind meeting him myself. I do recall seeing an Egyptian vulture with very clean plumage in North Africa. He followed us when we were chained together, and he was circling above me when I was trapped under my Kübelwagen."

"All along, that was him. Watching out for us." Troy was quiet again, then let out a sigh. "I mean… I don't feel any different. Twenty-four years and I made a big fuss over nothing."

"I would not call this 'nothing.' You were scared of what all this meant, which is understandable. Moffitt was scared. I was scared. There is no shame in it."

Troy nodded. "I wish I had known that it wasn't as bad as I thought it was going to be. I was even telling Moffitt that I wish I'd known about this during the war."

"Personally, I am glad you did not."

"I don't blame you, but… I wish I had it for certain situations. That time Moffitt was going to be executed, for one. I could've gotten him out the first time, and he and Anah wouldn't be dealing with nightmares about it." Troy picked up a dry red leaf to absently play with it. "No use dwelling on it, though."

"No." Dietrich adjusted his posture, a slight grin tugging at the edges of his mouth.

"What? What're you smiling about?"

"Nothing. Continue talking, please."

Troy sighed again. "Alright, well, I think you're going to be happy about this—now that I've found blood relatives who care about me, and I've accepted the jackal thing, something… something clicked, and I feel ready to confront… my mother."

Dietrich's smile widened. "Did you come to this decision a few days ago?"

"Yeah. The day after the mountain battle. Why?"

"Do you remember my dreams about the garden? How it was once lush and colorful, but when I came upon a patch of dead and dying marigolds and lavender, the whole garden wilted? You were tearing up the plants, throwing them into a fire, and saying there was nothing worth saving."

"I remember. What about the garden?"

"That night, I dreamt that you returned to the garden, holding a watering can. You poured water over the marigolds, and sat there, waiting."

Troy expected Dietrich to start making jokes about how he couldn't garden and the ridiculousness of Troy being patient. When Dietrich said nothing, Troy asked, "You think it means something?"

"I do."

"Dietrich?"

"What?"

"How did you know I was going to bring this up? Did you have a dream about that, too?"

"No. It seemed like a logical thing to assume, given the dream I did have."

"Alright, fair enough."

"I already promised I would be there with you, when you are ready to talk with your mother."

"I was about to say that I'm planning on talking to the people I'm closest with about… coming to Wyoming. You're right. I shouldn't go it alone. It has to be done. I mean, I feel ready, but I'm also… scared."

"I think I can count on my hands the amount of times you have admitted to being scared. You have certainly changed and grown for the better since our first encounter in the war."

"So have you."

Dietrich nodded. "Frankly, I would have been surprised if you were not scared of confronting your mother. That is not going to be easy for you, no matter how many of us are at your side."

"No, it won't. I don't know what I'm going to say, and I definitely don't know what she's going to say, but I'm going to do it. Even if it's just me standing there in silence."

"I think you will know what to say when the time comes."

"Hopefully." Troy looked back at the leaf he had been playing with. "So, you happy? I finally figured out my jackal powers and decided I'm going to confront my mother."

"Yes, I am happy," Dietrich said.

"Really? Because you look more sleepy than happy."

Dietrich gave him a look. "And whose fault is that?"

"Mine."

"I am impressed that you are admitting it." Dietrich closed his eyes when a gentle breeze came through. He looked relaxed, but it wouldn't have surprised Troy if he fell asleep.

A desire for mischief overrode everything else, and Troy set the leaf he had been toying with on Dietrich's head. When Dietrich didn't react, Troy sat back down and picked up one of the apples that had fallen from the tree. It must have been fairly recent, as the apple had a bunch of bruises, but wasn't horribly squishy. It didn't smell funny, nor was the skin punctured, so Troy bit into it.

Dietrich let out a sigh. "That was on the ground, Troy."

Troy's response was a shrug. "It's still okay."

"Could you do me a favor and not do that around Gunther? Esther told me she had to stop him from eating one of those just a few days ago."

"I promise, I won't. You're the one who refers to me as a garbage disposal. I thought you'd be happy I'm cleaning up your yard."

"I would be happier if you offered to rake my yard, but I am not even sure you can do that with messing it up in some way."

"I can rake."

"Really? Gunther said that in a similar tone and guess who had to actually rake."

"You?"

"No. Anselm offered to do it. Point still stands. You are not raking my yard."

Troy was a little insulted that Dietrich had just compared him to an actual five-year-old, but continued eating his bruised apple, trying not to grin as the leaf was still on Dietrich's head.

The two went inside a short while later to find Anselm washing and drying the breakfast dishes, Esther sewing by the radio in the living room, and Moffitt trapped on the couch nearby with Gunther and Anah snuggled up on him.

"Well, isn't this cute," Troy whispered when he looked in the living room.

"I need to use the loo," Moffitt said. "Can you please take them?"

"Okay, okay." Troy picked up Gunther, then Anah.

"Thank you." Moffitt stood and made a mad dash for the bathroom upstairs.

Gunther started giggling while looking over Troy's shoulder.

"What? What's so funny?" Troy asked.

"Daddy has a big leaf on his head!"

Dietrich paused after entering the house, and touched his head. He cursed when he felt the leaf. "Damn it, Troy!"

"Hans, language," Esther said without looking up from her sewing.

Dietrich glared at the leaf while biting his tongue, then shook it at Troy. "You—pain in my—" He started grumbling what sounded like words, but no one could tell for sure.

When Troy, Moffitt, and Anah returned to Britain, Troy stayed with Moffitt for a couple of hours before heading to the airport to go home. He wasn't too thrilled about being alone, despite having flown alone countless times. His mind turned to when he was sent home after the war—well, back then, "home" was a loose term for him. Sure, Wyoming was home, but that was about it. He had no house to go back to. He remembered feeling lost, feeling angry, tired, worn-out, uncertain, and depressed. The war was over, yes, and there were celebrations all around him, but Troy was far more concerned about what lay ahead for him, and how so much had been stripped away from him because of grief.

Confronting his mother wouldn't reverse anything. It wouldn't bring back anyone who had died. Not his father, nor his grandparents. It wouldn't put his grandparents' farm back in the family's possession. It wouldn't take back any of what was said between Troy and his parents. It wouldn't erase the vitriol, the hatred, and the ever-increasing rifts that formed between them. It wouldn't bring back Rainflower, the horse Troy had worked with before his father mishandled her, resulting in her trampling him. It wouldn't change anything, but perhaps amends could be made. He was ready to offer his mother forgiveness.

The long flight home gave him lots of time to think. Troy thought about what he wanted to say, but he knew Dietrich was right—he would know what to say when the time came. He just hoped he wasn't too late. His brother, David, was in fairly limited contact with their mother, and had mentioned that it was starting to look like she was in the beginning stages of decline. Troy had moments when he would mutter, quite coldly, that he didn't care, but that attitude had changed. He was ready to try helping, but only if he was allowed to.

Troy returned home to his ranch, and was more than happy to put aside his thoughts and worries for time with Shauna and Antheia. It felt good to be home, and it felt just as good to finally feel that he was close to achieving peace with himself.