Jade Fern Grove find what you love and let it kill you

Awkward and silent was she, silent on the outskirts of the meeting while everyone seemed to greet one another as old friends. Her eyes flicked briefly to Sriracha once or twice, and perhaps a faint plead could be seen in their depths. She felt horribly out of place, and felt that should she open her maw naught but mumbled gibberish could come out. 

Her face burned beneath her fur as she took her leave quickly when Sriracha did, leaving the others to catch up as they may and spiriting off into the Grove again, as gracefully as one could hobble.