Porcupine Ridge authentic battle damage

She swallowed, mostly unsure and altogether at a loss for how she should respond. It was a personal question, she presumed, thinking of it in a way a child tries to choose between two favorite dinner options without the choice of both. Because while she was perfectly content to remain where she was (the provided home and the bonus sense camaraderie she felt for her packmates was enough, she thought), there was something motivating behind the prospect of rank-ascending. This had not been possible in The Cove, but here was Taggarik, his face earnest and his eyes coolly beseeching as he asked what she wanted. She couldn't ever remember being asked something like this before—she'd never really made her own choices, having been a mere pawn in her previous kingdom.

"I don't protest the place I've been given..." she said after a prolonged silence. "I'd be grateful to be here, even if I was an Undertow." Diane blinked. "I mean a, um.. an Omega, I think you call it." And then she paused, looking down at her feet, searching for words not yet pulled. "But the longer I'm here, the more I find that I'm capable of things I've never even... imagined." She recalled the moment she had told the onyx Alpha she had never been in a fight before, and in glancing at her wounded leg, she was reminded that this was not true anymore.

"I'm starting to feel like.. like I'll never be sure of what I want exactly," the she-wolf admitted finally. "But I also believe I'll do anything I need to for this pack. Rank doesn't matter to me—it wouldn't change the sense of duty I have to you... to this place."