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

Downed, Saena could see nothing momentarily. The wind was knocked from her lungs by the impact with the ground and her vision went black. Even when it returned moments later, there was a fuzzy quality to it, as if she was waking from an over-long sleep. She rolled one eye upward to spot Warbone, and for a moment, she thought she was staring death in the face. For that moment, he ceased to be her partner and took on an identity born of Saena's own fears, a reaper come to collect her for repeatedly failing herself and others, and she curled in on herself in preparation for the kiss of his jaws on her neck. He was right. He was rage incarnate, and she the physical manifestation of incapability.

She didn't really hear the rest of the pack come up, nor really notice Warbone settle beside her. She was deaf to his command. She was paralyzed by fear, disappointment, self-loathing, and all manner of other feelings that bubbled up like stomach acid. However badly she wanted to get revenge on the smoke pack of the north, Wildfire had done nothing to her but utter misplaced warnings or threats or whatever they were, and in return, Saena had probably killed her. Warbone was right. There was no honour in it. But if she could not find her honour in finding revenge and retribution for what was stolen from her, then what could Saena possibly do? She didn't think she could just forget it ever happened.

The answer was that she just didn't know, and that knowledge alone paralyzed her until Warbone touched her. Instinctively, she flinched away from him, and rolled a bright blue eye to watch him warily. His touch stung, but more than that... He was right, but he'd still frightened her greatly with his temper and his threats now that her own was dying down, and she was still afraid of what he might do should she ever leave again. She was afraid it would be impossible for her to stay like he wanted, and that he would kill her himself. So she flinched away, and mumbled a nearly inaudible, "I'm sorry," as if his forgiveness would somehow stem from it, even though she didn't think he could forgive her.