Sea Lion Shores 1957

They were wise words - It is what it is - but you control how you react to it. Any normal wolf would have seen this, would have appreciated the effort to commiserate and comfort.

Not Doe.

"You accuse me?" she asked, her voice a quiet hiss. For she was the cause of her circumstances. She had thrown Whiskey into the waves, and Whiskey had died. Doe had killed her. And while Olive's words were all well and good for wolves that had been thrown into unfortunate situations through no fault of their own, Doe could not understand what Olive could have meant beside and accusation. "I had no choice," she snapped, backing away from the other, leaving the flowers crushed between them on the pebbly sand. "I had no choice, I had to. Who are you to judge me?"

Her heartbeat was a loud whoosh in her ears, drowning out all sound that did not come from her own self. "Who... you accuse... I could not - She has taken from me!" she gasped, the last three words coming out in an unearthly shriek. "You know nothing of circumstance! You know nothing of slavery!"

Gasping for breath and with tears in her eyes, Doe turned - stumbling - and fled the scene.