Golden Glade coming undone (who am i?)

Taking the invitation, she winced with each step she took toward Jhala, her ears still flush with her skull. It was no longer the rain which hurt the most (unless it was the rain that hit her on the head, in which case it hurt like a bitch), but the voices being exchanged and thrown between the Alphess and herself. Anything. I don't care. Though her voice was still at a constant murmur, it carried a bit more bass in it. She just wanted the border business to be over so she could go and think. She was convinced that thinking was all she had to do for it to all come back to her, but how could she think in the midst of a storm, inside and out?