Dragoncrest Cliffs The bottle stench may be here to stay

She remained glued to the spot, secretly hoping that the tide might rush in and pull her away so she had an excuse to get some space for herself, and avoid the looming possibility that she might have to speak, now that her mother had heard her sing. And while Rosalyn moved toward the damp sand where the waves ebbed, she hadn't dismissed her daughter. She requested, as Chacal suspected she might, that Chacal sing again.

Part of her had known that this would draw interest- and it broke her heart to think that her worth might change simply because she'd found a way to get around her aphasia. She hadn't conquered it- no, she wasn't sure that was possible. Her mother wanted her to speak- but would it be the same to her, as having them swim the Seafoam Run? Could a wolf's worth be defined by a task like swimming or singing? 

She felt there was more to her than just being pushed to speak. She also felt as though she'd had to discover her voice on her own. So she heaved a sigh when she was asked to teach Rosalyn the song she'd sung, and she decided instead that she would sing the melody, of course, but with words that came from her. 

"Do you love me more if I sing?" Came her doleful voice.