King Elk Forest This poem is mournful & sentimental & filled with complaints:

She was locked on scene, keen to see how this would escalate.. not that she needed this to get any worse, even as another young one came for Queenie's heels. This pulled back her lips in a silent snarl--even if she did not understand the context here entirely. Already, everything was far too questionable with this once hale elk now dead at their feet and Delight's words brought in the whole gravity of the situation soon enough.

Her hackles stayed half-mast at the thought of the lingering unease that she felt from their ragtag bunch as she listened. The morwinyon had made his mentions, sent her off scouting even, and now, here came the final push they needed to get themselves out of here it seemed. She wouldn't argue with any of it--it really was time to go.

"I can," she affirms without an ounce of hesitation. Maybe even too quickly (without entirely considering a whole pack to uproot), but she skims her pale sights over their group once more, lingering lastly and longest on Mato and Delight. She doesn't second guess her answer, though: she will get them to the Vale. "As soon as we're ready." the ambar nodded before it could sink in.