Snowforest Taiga ten fingers to the sky

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pain blossomed across her shoulders, sharp and sudden and deserving. her breath hitched, but gaze remained fixed on the woman, accepting. then she was gone, the huntress only half-hearing what she'd before vanishing, and not particularly caring. she'd gotten what she wanted, the pain of the wounds competing with that familiar crushing hurt around her chest. breath rushed back into her throat, low hiss escaping her. 

it wasn't enough. some part of her felt glad at the twisted righteousness, but some other, larger part, lay disgusted and ashamed. it wasn't the same as it had been the first time she'd sought this, didn't work, didn't cover it. she rolled over onto her side, drawing her limbs close. 

and then something snapped, and the grief was finally and fully allowed to flow. when first it had burned when she'd shoved it deep, it broke now the carefully constructed dams she'd erected. her mouth began to move, murmuring apologies, soft and muttered and then growing fervent and quick. to her father, to easy, to dauntless, to sunny and to aditya. and she let the grief consume her and for once, did not feel ashamed at it.