Blackfeather Woods a bad thought is blossoming behind my skull

let me know if you want this changed

he says something that is all consonants, low and rumbling, and she stares through him in pleading confusion.  in the end she is unable to glean anything from their interaction, and by his tone of voice she feels as though she has done something wrong[/].

oh.

she wants to know how to make it better.  her tongue escapes from her slim jaws and she smooths it over her muzzle.  why did she even try this?  she'd [i]never had any luck with these conglomerates of other wolves, and she doubted she'd ever find one that accepted her.

anxiously, she shifted her weight before bounding off without another vocalization.

there was no fixing this.  there never was.