Northstar Vale The little deaths are a little less, even if just for a moment

Saena was like a wild filly, or more like a stallion, unused to restraint of any sort. How she'd got by as a leader without any sort of restraint was a sheer wonder. Warbone took to her disrespect about as well as she expected him to, but she wasn't cowed by his response as she probably should've been. A wiser wolf would've backed down, but she merely snarled back at him, whiskers drawing back tight around her nose and lips. She halted, only because he was physically blocking her, and stared daggers into his face as he spoke.

"Unable?" she snorted, disbelieving, and missed that she had no tail to lash in that moment. "I've led since I was a year old, Warbone. I'm capable." Even if she was injured, she felt like she could hold her own, as untrue as that was. Perhaps because she was such a wild and heated spirit, or because there was something inspiring in Saena, she'd never really been challenged before. The one wolf who waltzed into Phoenix Maplewood and attempted to do so had been torn apart by her pack, and all others had simply fallen in line. Despite knowing better deep down, she felt she had no reason to fear a challenge now since it had never happened in the past even though she'd been injured many times before. The wolves of Duskvale, she felt, were trustworthy. None would take advantage of her state.

The moment she thought it, she knew how wrong she potentially was, and pressed her ears further back in defeat. Warbone's words hit her like hammers. She looked away, refusing to meet his temper with recognition for the time being, for in her was still the petulant defiance of a young adult and none of the poise and grace of a more composed wolf. But she was afraid of him, afraid to look him in the eye and try to justify herself when she knew she couldn't, even as he claimed he did not want to hurt her. Whether he wanted to or not, she was already hurt, and he was making it worse. She deserved it, of course, but try telling Saena that.

Only when he challenged her to provide a reason did the flame within her flare again, and she growled fiercely as she snapped, "my daughter! My honour! Everything I once worked for!" Pretty much everything Saena had, she'd lost when she lost Phoenix Maplewood. Silver Creek had never been the same. As though to prove that to her, fate had taken her memories and sent her away, only to return and find all she cared for was gone from the Creek. But fate had dealt her a crueler hand still by ensuring that Laurel hated her, and even though she had found Indra and brought her to the vale, and even though Duskvale was now home and she felt that the release it gave her to follow her instincts was better even than the maplewood, there was still a gaping hole in her where her other daughter was meant to fit.

"The wolf I took out was a member of the pack who took everything from me," she snarled. "I lost my honor as a fighter and a leader when I uprooted my pack and fled my home because my children were too young at the time for me to fight for it. They would have died, I couldn't sacrifice my babes for a forest. But one of my daughters is still out there, and now I know they are, too, and they must think me weak. Now they know otherwise. What would you have me do, Warbone?" She knew, of course. He would have her leave it all behind her, like she advocated all comers to Duskvale do, and give herself solely to Duskvale, and fuck the whole past and everyone in it. She wanted to do that. But it was so much easier said than done, she'd lost control when she smelled the smoke on Wildfire's coat and felt it all come rushing back, and that was proof enough that she struggled to put it behind her. Saena's eyes shone with bright tears as she tried once more to push past him, only to collapse in woozy a heap on the ground.