Swiftcurrent Creek there's something in the static

Mature Content Warning

This thread has been marked as mature. By reading and/or participating in this thread, you acknowledge that you are of age or have permission from your parents to do so.

The participants have indicated the following reason(s) for this warning: suicidal ideation, ptsd, general whumpiness

It was all too much.
It felt as if some kind of levee inside of Wren had finally broken, something of great force had snapped and the gamma herself was a bomb that had just gone off. Eshe offers an embrace, and sure enough, Wren has fallen into it, head pressed against her collarbone. Her nails press softly into the silver sheen of Eshe's shoulder, and as her body rocks back and forth, she wails.
She almost killed someone. What if she did? What if he was dead and she didn't know it? He was just a boy. What if the neonate doesn't even make it and all of this was for nothing? Oh, what if she loses her pack for this? Akavir, Arric, Silvertongue, everything she had worked so hard for and grown to love so deeply; everything, everyone, everything; it had been slipping, slipping, slipping already, and now here it was and she'd almost killed someone and—
She missed her mommy. She wanted to go home, she wanted to be anywhere but here; she wanted to run for the hills and let them sweep her away to become one with the ridgeline; let the sinew beneath her skin rot away and bloom into something much more beautiful than she could ever be.
I-I almo-ost ki-illed him, Esh-ee, shattered, hoarse is her voice, hardly even a jarbled collection of sound as her breath escapes her. h-ee almoss-t kill-ed me-e, I wish he would've, I wish he would've, I wish he would've—
A smell. A sound, ever vague, but one still that reached her.
Could it? Could it could it could it—
Through her haze, a bellowed, hoarse cry of her name, please, oh please; Silver?