Hushed Willows staggering defeat

she was not well; that much she knew. what had occurred within the den was something she had not been able to control, something violent and dark, something she had not wished upon even her children. no matter her inability to be a proper mother, she had grown to realize this life was not her own but one shared with three young begins, unable to free themselves from her. it was not their fault they had earned themselves a mother so damaged that she  felt she could not love them, no. it was purely her own. they would know her anger, yes, and her sorrow, yes, but she knew as true as the night and the day, she could not let them feel her pain. it was beyond anything they deserved, beyond what was moral and what was humane. amara, as futile and undeserving as she was, could not loose yet another thing that would tear her apart. 

she would need to try.