Stone Circle What can break me has a name

It was all… a lot. Lemmikki was getting a little frustrated herself, to hear all of the words being said but no one concretely offering themselves—Skàld seemed to want to step down—until suddenly, Moss did. 

Her eyes turned to them. And then the fiery Astrid, who Lemmikki did not want to cross. Cowards, all of them—herself included. And was Astrid wrong in that assessment? Not in her, at least. But Lemmikki found she did not want to be led by her at all. Still she remained quiet, if only because of the potential that she might be—and soon. 

Swift was gone in the blink of an eye, and Lemmikki decided she did not want to be led by him, either. Running away from the problem wasn’t the answer. She chastised herself as the thought came, asking herself how she could be so judgmental when she wasn’t even willing to speak. Could she actually blame the dark boy? No, no she couldn’t—but then, the point made by the others seemed to have that much more weight behind them. “Too young” this and “too young” that. 

Lemmikki and her time of silence had reached some sort of boiling point. Tensely she shifted her weight, eyes scanning the crowd of wolves crowing at one another this, that, and another thing. 

Of them all, it was Kristjan that impressed her. Kristjan that seemed to understand that unity was important, more than any adult. 

She simmered, but still said nothing. Lemmikki did take a step closer to the group, closer to Kristjan—an unspoken vote, and perhaps for that an ultimately  unrecognized one.