Stone Circle What can break me has a name

Lemmikki watched in the backdrop, lingering close enough to be observed but far enough to not be considered a nuisance. She did not want to interfere, or say anything anyone might disagree with to earn the ire of now another set of leaders. 

Her heart sank. Skáld knew her, at least. She knew him well enough. But Lemmikki did not know the sons and daughters of Gunnar or of Tauris—not their fault, she knew. 

So she listened to them grapple over titles. And her faith felt a little more shaken. They wanted it because they were owed it—by those too dead to argue the point. She did not know them well enough to know if they would agree with their cubs. Why wouldn’t they, though? Lemmikki knew very little about the world, but it felt like parents were meant to make sure their little ones got the things that they needed—and wanted. 

But she found she did not think that meant anything. Not that her own thoughts mattered here, not really…

And then Kristjan spoke. It was his words that rang in her ears. Him who seemed to care about the big picture, the pack. 

Her eyes stayed on him—he had become her own choice. But she did not speak it, thinking that her voice did not matter enough to be heard.