Stone Circle can't fight this feeling

Steady spoke, and her stomach turned with nervousness, though he did not give a name immidiatly. He spoke of a woman, of safety and warmth, and though a few dim figures drifted to her mind, she knew quickly that was was none of them. "the grey lady?" she murmered, gaze turned to him. was that why the grey ghost that drifted through her thoughts and her dreams was no longer here? the figment of her imagination that had seemed like more? 

then his words hit her like a bomb, and then it was raining hurt, and there was an odd clenching in her chest. a name. a sister. dead, and gone. a sister she thought that she could perhaps remeber in the slightest, a figure that danced on the edge of her memories, taunting. the grey ghost was something much more clear, and as he spoke she clutched close to the forefront of her mind the only and few faded memories of the grey woman, the one she now had a name for. she did not feel the hurt that would have come with someone close to her today vanishing from her life, merely a dull keening at the knowledge that there ought to have been something that was not.

the peaceful, idleness of her world felt rocked, and all she could think to say then was "oh", the single syllable thin and wavering. though she did not know it now, there would come a relief with knowing that the missing, wavering shards of her world were put in their place, and that she knew now the whole story. but now, all the felt was hurt, and a crushing weight. and though it was feeble, a wavering spark when it first came to light, there was a spark. it was of anger, toward that that was bad and that had taken from her the mother and the sister that she never knew. 

and Steady had killed that that was bad. he had brought a kind of balance, she realized as her head lay limp on her paws and her gaze stared unseeingly into the distance. she realized in the moment of hurt the concept that she would come to find was called justice, though there was hardly time to dwell on it. instead, she buried her head in the fur of her father's shoulder, silent as she quaked, sorrow for the mother and the sister that never were. For even if blood did not tie them, she knew through all this that Steady was her father, and Valette her mother, as surely as she knew that Nikai was her brother and that the sky was blue.