When Maple Syrup returned from the clock arena to the spectator stands, her wings were fully restored. She stood alone in a corner, spear in hand, radiating a clear aura: keep your distance. No one dared approach.
If she had asked those questions earlier, she obviously knew the weight of her actions—their rightness or wrongness. But Maple Syrup would never admit she was wrong.
Because admitting wrong would require change. And in the chaos of war, the bear cookies had already protected countless young oak owls. Some had even ended up in other races' hands, quickly put to use.
How could you undo that?
Even if Mud Bears asked Rita now whether she wanted all the bear cookies returned to Autumn Deer, Rita would probably remain silent.
Each cookie could shield a youngling from harm—whether from outsiders or their own kind.
Perhaps in a fully peaceful Starsea, Maple Syrup might be willing. But not now, while so many foreign races lived in BS-controlled worlds. She refused.
