Broken Antler Fen From high hopes to the ground

She was late. Terribly so. She bounded through the snow like a hare being pursued, panting as she drew alongside her mother, completely and utterly a disruption to the meeting. Sorry, she managed, and then plopped down. She had been elsewhere, playing—and looking for the bird she had tried to befriend the other day.

Wraen seemed to be talking about adult things. She didn't understand most of it. But Lilitu knew they were trying to form something here: a new home, like the one they'd had in the vale. With leaders and rules and all that boring stuff. 

It was important, though, and she never missed an opportunity to try and make herself useful to her aunt, whom she held in high esteem (just below her parents in the hierarchy inside her head).

Can I help? she asked, when silence had fell among the gathered wolves. 

What was expected of her, what she expected of herself. . .she didn't really know at all. But maybe they'd be proud of her for stepping up. A smile came to her face at the thought.