Arrow Lake i hit a wall, i never felt so low, so low

Wylla had played this game enough times to know exactly what River was doing, and she was old enough now that she would not rise to it. Another wolf had done much the same not so long ago, but then she had been too depressed. Now she was content — not exactly happy, but nowhere near as sad as she was — and it was her contentment that tempered the worst of Wylla's flaring temper now. That, and recognizing River for the same wolf she had once been, and knowing how to deal with herself.

The loss of her eye still troubled her and it was a low blow for anyone to make, but she snorted where once she would have shouted. Who said anything about worrying? I live. I vanquished my monsters, and all the made up ghosts with them. She had never seen the bitch who took her eye again, leaving Wylla to conclude that she was dead. Have you?

Wylla recognized herself in River, and wondered what had happened in this one's life to turn her so bitter, so young, but she didn't give a shit enough to ask. She didn't care about the skeletons in River's closet, or at least told herself she didn't, if only to spare herself reliving her own life in someone else's voice.