Porcupine Ridge Shapeshifter

Things had definitely changed. Muskrat had disappeared, the peaks of the ridge had fell quiet as of late. She stopped as he stopped, a moment delayed, and scrambled back to close the unintentional distance. Tattered ears perked sharply and her features paled at the question.

Sentinel? Lead?

Was she suited for such things? Could she bear such a title?

She was a healer, and much as her soul ached do wreak atrocity on the earth, ruin it and make it her bitch, she was no martial extraordinaire, and certainly not the picture of a caring, selfless leader. The offer brought a fluster to her cheeks, and a quick beat to her heart. I... Don't know... Muskrat could fight n' I can't—not really. Her tail flicked with uncertainty while she stammered I don't know the first thing about leading others—

Urchin had never held any power. She did not know what to do with it beyond serve her own whims.