Dawnlark Plains trying for years to flee

disappointment galled mona as the man spoke; it rested bitter on her tongue, and for a moment the mayfair did not react to either of the wolves. however, a mannerliness had been impressed upon the girl from the time she could speak; she had been raised by rowan mayfair, after all. and so, gathering herself, mona regarded the wolfess first. "my father once helped lead blacktail deer plateau," she explained softly, "before he moved to the coast and founded donne .. donnelaith."
she stumbled once on the name; the smattering of gaelic and french she had retained did not save her from the mistake. "so i came there first, and then here, wondering if anyone was still left who might have known him." her tone was steady, affable, yet it would be only a blind creature who did not see the play of emotions across her scarlet face. "but, uh, i was wrong and ... i can go," she offered, wilting somewhat; mona had not yet learned to keep herself in check, and this shamed her beyond reason, the threat of falling apart in front of perfect strangers.