The firepit had barely cooled from the last night’s laughter when the third war came rolling in.
Ma hesitated before signing up. She really did.
Things had gotten loud. Messy. Disconnected.
The last war left her twisted up. Sure, she’d pulled a three star, but not without Uncle Kinxy cornering her into it. And now, with even more raiders pouring in, she didn’t know if she wanted to be a part of what was brewing.
But she was Ma. And Ma showed up.
So, she signed her name.
From the start, this war felt different.
Uncle Kinxy had brought in even more of the raiders’ “friends.” A war bigger than ever. Loud. Packed. Chaotic.
Ma had done her prep anyway, studied her target and Pa’s too, for good measure. Watched. Made her plan.
But when she woke up the morning of the war, it was already gone. Someone had hit her target before the sun even cleared the ridge.
No warning. No message.
And what did Uncle Kinxy do?
Tossed two more bases her way. Ones no one else had managed to three star. Ones she hadn’t studied.
“Try one of these,” he said. “We need the stars.”
Ma stared at the scroll like it owed her an apology.
“They’re your stars now,” she said, flipping him off.
Uncle Kinxy laughed at her frustration. “Not sure I saw that, Ma. Do it again, just to make sure.”
Ma obliged.
She didn’t rage. She didn’t yell. But Uncle Kinxy knew. And so did the rest. She saw C-Note’s expression, one of knowing.
Ma was pissed.
She waited. Thought about skipping the hit altogether. She’d almost not signed up for a reason.
But obligation tugged at her. The holler needed her to show up, even if she was showing up mad.
So she hit. Took the harder bases. Didn’t three star either, but didn’t fall flat either.
Then when Pa came in later, she approached him.
Didn’t vent. Didn’t accuse.
Just asked:
“How you feelin’ about all this?”
He replied.
He felt the same. It was out of control. The fast hits. The silence from their own kin. The creeping loss of structure. He asked if changes needed to be made. They discussed waiting it out.
“I’m thinkin’ it’s time I step back in,” he finally said.
She agreed.
The war was lost.
And Pa, true to his word, stepped in.
He didn’t scold. He didn’t name names. He just said the holler needed to return to its balance, its order, its team play.
But it was enough.
The raiders took it personal. Thought it was about Uncle Kinxy. Thought it was blame for the war loss.
Uncle Kinxy bristled. So did C-Note.
And Ma, she felt it happen. That flare of heat, right under the surface.
She’d hoped Pa would address it privately. Just between him, her, and Kinxy in the war barn,
But he didn’t.
He took back the reins publicly. And it sparked every dried-up leaf around him.
The raiders jumped in, defending Uncle Kinxy, talking in circles, posturing.
And Ma?
She saw the fire about to catch and it worried her.
So she stepped in, too. But not to take a side.
To hold the holler together.
“Let’s not turn this into somethin’ it ain’t,” she said. “We all want what’s best for the clan. Let’s stay focused.”
Down by the fire pit she talked with C-Note. Calmer. Measured. Trying to keep the peace. Giving a different perspective.
Later, Pa asked her to bring up concerns directly to Uncle Kinxy in the war barn where the three would often meet. Said they needed clarity, that it couldn’t be unspoken anymore.
So she did.
Gently. Respectfully.
But when she did, and Uncle Kinxy got defensive, Pa stepped in again. But this time, instead of support, he told them both to stop the family feud and to get back to business.
Just like that, Ma felt a shift.
She’d done what he asked. Said the words. Kept her tone steady.
But now, she was framed as the problem. The source of conflict. And Uncle Kinxy ran with that implication, told Ma to run things if she could do better and said he wasn’t worried about how the others felt about feeling pushed aside because he didn’t wanna have to wait for them to attack outside of the window he required.
Pa said nothing when Uncle Kinxy said these things, and others, to her in the war barn even though privately he later told Ma it was all BS.
She didn’t argue. Didn’t push back. She believed in hierarchy.
If Pa said to let it go, she would.
So she stayed quiet.
But now she wondered if she should have even spoken up at all.
Others saw it differently.
The goblins who hadn’t left. The ones still tryin’ to hit in the middle of all the noise.
They didn’t see Pa’s return as criticism.
They saw it as a return to order. To balance. To inclusion.
Not a slap at Uncle Kinxy or about their war loss.
Just a steady hand reclaiming the wheel.
But by then…
The damage had started to spread.
And it wasn’t done yet.
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