Hoshor Plains brings me 'round again

because I know what it's like to lose family. her hackles prickle, she stiffens. "you think I don't?" she spits, temper flaring for the first time. the names rattles off in her head—stone, brook, aditya, grayday, catori, shale, and so many more besides. he does not, can not know what it means to lose a mate, children, a father; to search and find them only to lose them again. hollow hurt and grief flashes, her expression tightens, tries to smooth the tension across her shoulders. this is not a contest of who's hurt the most, lost the most. 

she'd never told him, what she'd been running from when she'd first joined. she did not ever intend to. striving for tact, she continues. "look, evergreen. he has not lost me, us; we're just over the mountains. but I can't be at his side when others need me, not now."