Swiftcurrent Creek we want war · pack meeting

It was all her fault. It's all your fault. The Voice mocked over and over in her head. It was her fault that her pack-mates were injured and bloodied. Scimitar had to fight The White Wolf. Her cruel torturer/capturer/guard. Kieran had even had to fight the silver eyed beast. She had said not a single word since they'd gotten her, not a hello or an I'm back, nothing. She had given no explanation to the large crimson paw-print that marked her forehead like a beacon. Or her faintly dappled crimson fur. Or the crimson spiral with a line through it that she wore on her shoulder, and a deep matching scar, caked with blood. She had not explained the dark circles below her eyes, or her ribcage poking out from her scrawny form. Despite all the time she had to sleep in the prison, that was the last thing she could do. She'd barely been fed at all. Admitting that she'd drugged herself and she'd been in a haze when she'd trespassed would be embarrassing, because she'd only eaten the mushrooms 'cause she couldn't catch one darn thing. She was a gamekeeper! Even in the winter, she should've been able to find something. Star could've just taken from a cache, and none of this would have ever happened, but of course she couldn't take away food from the pack in a season as cold as this. Star did not howl. At the moment it seemed she had no rank, no right to howl. She sat away from the three who'd found her, not registering the fact that they were already probably enraged at her for being so stupid. What did I always tell you? You're stupid, Idiot.