Two Rivers Isle Unlikely News

She had expected something different, perhaps. Something to do with the fact that weeks ago, Burke had hinted at a greater title for her, a role she dearly wanted to fulfill.  But as such was not the case, and the news he delivered as she stood silently among the other's was as if a weight had been placed suddenly, without warning on her. She as still a moment, hardly daring to react. Arthendal had reached its end. For six long months she had toiled and followed and done all she could for the pack, and it had amounted to nothing. 

there was the crushing weight of failure, of grief and perhaps if she had done more it would not have ended such. She would have gotten the role she longed for, and Arthendal would be strong. But she did not know how to handle these emotions, and thus from them stemmed anger, rising and filling her in its familiar way. She did not meet Malice's gaze as she backed up, did not meet Burke as she twisted smoothly, fighting to control the anger and failure and grief beneath her graceful gait as she moved from the gathering, hardly rational at this point as she disappears into the treeline, the hurt remaining as she picked up her pace until she moves at a lope, the hurt and swirling anger following her even as she crosses the river, tired of following tamely, of routine and all this hurt. Of the anger that rises I'm her umbidden, and the terrible need to hurt another so that her anger may find relief. She doesn't know what she will do. She knows only this emotion that carries her paws south, the anger and horrible weight of failure.