Kintla Flatlands we are the fortunate ones

It always made Junior feel a little strange when someone referenced her "death." Her elders didn't like to dwell on the subject, nor did she. In fact, they'd really barely touched on the subject of what had happened during Junior's time away, when they'd all presumed her dead. She certainly hadn't heard an account so vivid and detailed as Kaskara's. Her stomach knotted and she frowned at the misery she had unwittingly caused.

Her mismatched eyes slowly closed when Kaskara told her about how she'd verbally lashed out at Blue Willow, blaming her for Junior's death. And because of her behavior, Peregrine had chucked her out of the pack. Junior's eyes reopened, shimmering with guilt. She hated the idea of anyone yelling at sweet Aunt Willow for any reason and it badly bothered her that all of this had happened because of her.

"But I'm not dead," Junior stated the obvious. "It was all... a big, big, big mistake. That's all. What if you talked to my dad and Aunt Willow? You could say sorry for yelling and they'd let you back into the pack." She sounded hopeful, unaware that Kaskara had likely moved on long ago. She didn't want to be responsible for the woman's homelessness. "And if you don't want to talk to them face to face, I can pass along a message," she offered in the next breath, always prepared to do her duties. "Then I could come back here and tell you what they say. But I'm sure they'll say you can come back!"