The Sentinels where the handouts grow on bushes and you sleep out every night

They could not go back. She tensed, her eyes widening for a moment as she had not considered something so simple. She had kept herself from the pack for the last few days of their stay in the forest, they had been secretive and it was shifted into something else and she - she had to believe it, she had to trust it. She could not form words for a moment as her Banrion told her what she already knew. This was a game of calculated risks and they took them for people who did not even appreciate it. What the pack did as a whole for them, what they had all done, and never had they been thanked or given any sense of peace from those they protected. 

She did not want to be bitter and yet she was. She did not want to hate and yet she did. She did not want to be petty and yet it was all in her blood at that point, her very soul tinged with contempt. She had left her marital home and she left her husband's grave and she was given no solace in return and she was angry. "You have nothing to apologize for." Hemlock said, and did not fool herself into thinking she could mask the emotions in her. 

Hemlock allowed herself something different, to see as Lotte had, to know things the way that she had; and she was grateful for the reprieve of her own bitter thoughts and to know the Banrion better. When she did return Lotte to her husband it was with the promise of fetching the herbs for both of them to take to help them sleep - they would all need their rest of the remainder of the trip.