Moonspear monday? no thanks.

Bronte trailed the group, keeping a few paces behind. She was silent. Carrying with her an air of uncertainty and guilt. She held her head low, ears splayed. As if to convey that she might be guilty of what had befallen Acrux.

She didn't know Anathema had such a mean streak in her. That she would do such a thing. The girl was definitely odd, but Bronte had never assumed she was dangerous. Her blood simmered. All she could think of was getting back to Brecheliant as soon as possible, to let the leadership know what had happened. To warn Ponyboy and hold Anathema accountable.

Unsure of the reception she would receive, she held back, sitting down pensively as Alaric, the adult who hastily tended to Acrux, called out to the Moonspear leaders.