Phoenix Maplewood graphite

None of her words had addressed any of Druid’s own troubles, yet she said the speaking helped.  Redd did not understand.  Perhaps it was similar to the way that she felt more lost than ever, sitting here, and yet somehow more at peace too.  Finally she had recognized what had been wrong all this time, if no solutions yet.  She had time still.

Her mind went to Gavrel.  She had chosen him truly, and had he remained, she could have loved him without hesitation.  If he returned perhaps she still could.  Now she wondered which she mourned more; Gavrel or Wealda.  The man she had or the woman she might have been.

Both.  But she had held Wealda longer, and she knew in her heart what her cries had been for.

A strong pack chooses its leader,  she said finally, allowing her gaze to rise and settle on Druid once more.  The Rise is strong.  Rivenwood is strong.  What’s needed will be.  It gave her comfort that no matter what happened, Redtail Rise would continue with the hunt lead and his blood.  Perhaps she would remain and serve what came next.  Perhaps she would be driven to find her own path.

Her tail lifted, this time in a friendly way, signifying her intent before she pressed forward and butted her forehead to the other woman’s shoulder.  It was an affection usually reserved for packmates and kin, but Druid had given her something here that she still did not entirely understand.  Her gratitude couldn’t be spoken.