Ravensblood Forest talking of michelangelo

Submission, at first, had been an act of self-preservation. She'd known she was too weak to stand up to Durnehviir at the time, but as the days flew by and she regained her strength, she found herself with little desire to approach the red-splashed woman for another try and the totem pole. The only reason she'd been the leader at Sameth was because she'd been the oldest, and her parents had died, and she couldn't bear to leave her little siblings without a guide. Here, though, there was Durnehviir, young and strong and willing to take control.

The more she thought about that fact, the more comfortable with it she became.

And today, finally, she was willing to move in from the outskirts and step past her shame. There was nothing wrong with not being the boss. There was nothing wrong with having submitted. She was doing her best to help the pack, and that was what was important. So it shouldn't be a problem to approach another Ravensblood wolf, and to give him a smile and say hello.

Still, Sunspot found herself feeling strangely bashful as she sidled up to the strange wolf, making sure to keep far from his kill. "Hello," she said tentatively, her tail giving a small, hopeful whisk.