Otatso Wetlands Sorry Isn't Enough

Grace was irritated with the mud on her paws, trying to get each one from the sucking filth but sinking further each time but one paw was raised. With a huff, she pressed forward, but unfortunatley she only got a few steps before a familiar scent washed over her. Fear engulfed the young woman, and before she could turn to see Starks approach, his booming tenor sounded behind her. She squeaked quietly, spinning around with wide, terror-filled golden eyes. She tried to meet his eyes, but seeing his body looming over her sent her to the earth.... Or rather into the mud. She didn't even think about it as she flopped pathetically to her side, whimpering and tail tucked tight between her hind legs.
What WAS she doing around here? Hell, she could barely answer that herself, but Grace was sure that answer wouldn't help her now. Trembling like a leaf in a windstorm, Grace spoke to the alpha's paws. 
          "I-I.... I'm......"
Stuttering for a moment, the russet girl couldn't find anything to say, any excuse for her vanishing- or her return. Tears filled her eyes, and she shook her head as if to clear it before blurting out whatever came out. 
                                "I-I'm sorry, Stark." 
It was all she could say, really. Still laying tensely in the mud, feeling the water seep to her skin, Grace didn't move but squeezed her eyes shut. Everything in her bones told her to run, to hide, and to never come back, that if she stayed that Stark's fangs would be sinking into her throat as easily as she'd sunk in the mud.  But the yearling was sick of running, sick of abandoning: for ONCE, she would stick this out and deal with whatever came. After all, Stark had once been a friend. While that relationship was clearly strained if not gone completely, Grace hoped that it would make him easier on her.