Blackfeather Woods dreamers

Potema's lips curled at the thought. I'll gladly give him up to die, And Cicero too. She would love to simply push two out before a band of bloodthirsty wolves and watch them be torn apart. Perhaps kill the three deformed ones in the process, and end the misery that had befallen Blackfeather Woods. Start anew with Kjalarr at her side. Pipe dreams, if she didn't shape up, but her mind was slowly clearing, despite the pain, jagged without the soothing touch of poppies to cap the sharp points.

It didn't feel strange to think of killing her family, and so willingly.

Her face softened for a moment. I won't die, She declared, a promise to him and to herself. Nothing would be worth it if she was dead. She was the last conduit to Mephala, the last voice until another could be trained. Perhaps she would have to wait for a new litter, or a new wolf to arrive, but she knew she had to survive in order for that to happen. 

Her daughters. Their daughters. How long had it been since she seen them? Koume and Kotake had been silent compared to their loud, unruly borthers who seemed to ruin everything they touched. She had not kept in touch with them as she should — had not done so with anyone. I will send them to you if it becomes too difficult, 
 
Potema saw his body move towards hers, and stepped forward. She accepted his embrace without a moment's hesitation, not caring, or seemingly forgetting that @Euron had been there, and was probably still watching. She would not deny her feelings for Charon, even at the borders of her pack. Especially not if she may indeed die and never see him again as he was now — locked away from him in the Void.