Redhawk Caldera silverchair

get out, get out, i don't want you to see me like this, leave, leave, leave, leave.
but bridget was doing just the opposite. teya squeezed her eyes closed and covered her face with a muddied forepaw. the red-masque spoke and the dam inside the raven finally broke as she was pulled into her friend's embrace. she hadn't registered the oddity in the other's gait, or that she was missing a leg; she was sobbing in shattered spates of salt because it felt so good to be held, even though she loathed the filth of her fur and its tangles and the smell of her own body.
"i not want this," she managed to choke out, even as her foreleg tightened around sorana's little body, the girl beloved despite her mother's harsh struggles. "and reyes say he cannot do this either, so —" 
she dissolved again, shutting her eyes and fighting for control.