Moonspear i can't feel anything anyway; let's show them the only way

the girl offers a soft and grateful thanks. she hesitates a moment over the proffered meal; it feels discourteous to eat now. but her hunger is an untamed thing, and soon she is making quick work of the catch, sharp relief as her hunger dulls.

she relaxes, slightly, at the mountain queen's words. there had been true fear at disappointing Hydra, if ever she's had a role model it's been the queen. she's everything Isi is not, and yet longs to be; confident, measured, stable, commanding. she nods, accepting the woman's instruction. she longs to be up and ready, work on the borders and learn at the hunt so she can prove the mountain wolves right for accepting her back; for accepting her in the first place. dragomir has done that, it seems; he walks the mountain with confidence now where once she'd had to support him when they'd hunted. their roles are reversed, and she does not quite know how to take it. 

she shakes her head at Hydra's apology. "it is my fault," she says, certain of it. she had wandered too far that day, she had gotten sick, she had chosen to follow that woman. her fault. they'd searched for her, despite it all, it sent a flicker of warmth to her just. to know they had cared, it was enough. 

"when I recover," she begins then, hesitating. can you teach me to be like you? it sounds childish, wrong. she reorganizes her thoughts, deciding on, "can you teach me to fight like you do?" there is a fierceness in her yet, covered as it may be by sickly health and resigned apathy. she'd begun to learn back at the river, but then the flood had came and started a whole sequence of events she'd yet to full recover from.