Before the Close of Day

but now it is a competition of whichever is heavier:
my will, or the pull of gravity into the grave

Hotaru's pride has been wounded by friends too many times for her to let it ruin them entirely. Forgiveness is a trait only the years have managed to impart in her, and she uses it plentifully to keep close the few people she has left. Noah is one of those precious few. The hunt had been awful in many ways, but anything specific she had felt was too well-tangled in traumatic memories and grief to separate out for the sake of holding a grudge.

It takes mere moments to fly up high enough to the nest she'd found in the eaves - though she is disgruntled to realize the gore crow has returned in her brief absence. She descends upon it with a much larger body and wicked talons, engaging it in a feather-ripping tussle that has the crow squawking and screeching as it puts up a pitiful fight. Hotaru does not relent however, and with no eggs to defend the crow clearly seems to realize it's a battle that will only end in tragedy and swiftly flies off to find somewhere else to nest.

Puffed up and triumphant, Hotaru shifts boldly on the roof, boots thickly treaded for the slick surface and confident she can shift back if she starts to fall. Signaling Noah to teleport up, she crunches up the nest in her human hands and gathers up the debris to place into the garbage bag.