Swiftcurrent Creek There is no way but up

The aging man stifles; stumbles, and in some way the graying face nearly made her feel pity. But he looks at her as if she is a deranged, feral creature with no sense of morality.
She supposed she was still her father's daughter.
She says nothing, not while the two leaders discuss — blood — and not while her head feels as if it may burst into shards. Akavir keeps himself close to her, and while she does not shy away from it, she does not lean into it.
Not anymore. Not with— but did it matter? Did anything matter?
Gunnar turns to leave at the command, and for a long while, Wren stares at the pit in the grass where he once was. The shame burns.
She didn't know.