Moonspear God can't hear you, they will fight you

Before she could really even register what was happening, a force pinned her to the ground, knocking the breath from her lungs. For a few painful seconds, her chest wouldn't expand to draw in air; she tried over and over, but her silent command to her lungs went unheard. She registered the teeth in her neck just as she was finally able to draw in a ragged breath. Hydra held her skin so tightly between her jaws that Speedy knew there would be sore, painful bruises there the next day. Even if she had wanted to push back, she wouldn't have been able to; she was small--not built for fighting, nor would she want to cause harm to another. She only wanted to heal and help her packmates, but now she had messed everything up. Finally, she was paying the price for her youthful naïvety, and for the first time since she ventured from her home, she actually regretted her decision to leave. 

She didn't get up when the Hydra released her scruff,  prepared to listen to whatever she had to say. But, she assumed too much from her guilty behavior and willingness to yield. Although Hydra's assumption was correct, Speedy had ensured Charon that she would keep what actually happened a secret, at least until it would be impossible to do so--if it even came to that. She hesitated to say anything at first, still reeling from being slammed to the ground and wondering how much more damage it would do to keep lying to everyone. How would the beta react if she found out later that Speedy had lied to her face? She was torn, completely at a loss for what to say. On one hand, she could continue to lie and face an even harsher punishment than this. On the other hand, she could tell the truth now and then what? Charon would be angry with her and she would be inviting more conflict to the mountain and between him and his family. It was an impossible situation caused by a moment of weakness she wished she could take back.

She winced as Revui lunged for her, already knowing what his bite felt like and anticipating the pain, but it didn't come; she looked up to him pacing and glaring. Being the subject of his anger was just as painful as his teeth in her skin would have been. 

She sat up, but remained hunched, her gaze finding Arcturus in the background before resting back on the ground. There won't be any children because nothing happened, she said quietly, deciding in that moment that she would continue with the plan. She would figure everything else out later; for now, she just wanted to calm things down some, and this seemed like the best way to do it. My guilt is for making the decision to leave in the first place and creating this mess. She didn't lift her gaze once as she spoke, hoping her continued capitulation would appease her three angry packmates.