Silence and peace are both. Easily made. Easily broken. It takes one word, one person and everything shifts on it's axis. Her eyes fell on her sleeping husbands form beside her. Bruised and cut, he moved in his sleep the way he does when something is plaguing his mind. She laid her hand on his chest and instinctively his hand came up and covered hers. Kissing his cheek gently, she whispered an "I love you" and extricated herself as his breathing evened out. Quietly she padded downstairs with Wa-ya on her heals. Grabbing a cloth, she ran it under the faucet to wet it down. She wiped the blood from the Cu's muzzle and set down scraps of ham as a treat. Wa-ya had certainly earned it tonight. Three of them he said. Three of the Hand standing outside the Abbey as if they owned it. "Like hell," she muttered. Over her dead body they owned it. After all, wasn't she from the same family that gave birth to Gavin... Psychotic had to run in the blood somehow. Right?