Wheeling Gull Isle heart made of glass, my mind of stone

@Komodo and/or @Driftwood — theme

The nameless she-wolf had been saddled with a burden.

It was stronger than the pain she'd carried when her caretaker had died.  It was stronger than when  THE DARK MAN had set upon her.  It was stronger than when she had birthed her children.  She thought that maybe one day it might cease, or that it would lessen as time passed by.  As the days drew on, it seemed that her wishes would not be granted.  Instead, her failures seemed only to multiply.  Every time she thought of the Valley, it shattered her illusion of peace.  Even more, it hurt.  She missed it terribly; her mate, her babies, her boulder, the lavender.

Early in the morning, she had set her nose to the ground and started to map out the territory in her mind.  She had found her way to the pastel-swathed Rise, and it was there she could be found now, an ink blot silhouetted with the golden-orange rays of sunrise.

All of Undersea's beauty might have surpassed the Valley's, but the view did nothing to settle her nerves.

One thought as of late had plagued her more than the others.  It was Indra, savagely rounding upon her for no reason at the mouth of the valley.  "Have fun with your retarded children," she had spat venemously.  But Yakone was decidedly not dull.  Which meant that it was really meant for the raven, right?  And not once had Xan reassured her, or told Indra she was wrong for her assumption.  Blondine had always been holding something back.  Everyone seemed to have always been hiding something from her just out of her reach.  

If all of the Valley wolves thought she was a retarded, then was it much of a stretch to think all of the Island wolves thought she was one, too?