Hideaway Strath i think i might be scared

Leigh was... different. Not an "I'm special" type of different. Rather, she had a particular way of viewing and handling the world.

When she caught a glimpse of the fallen bodies of her mate and child, there were no tears. Even after she had days to process what had just happened, she never cried like the others. There was grief, and there was pain, but at the time there were no obvious signs that she was dealing with such feelings.

She left home not because she was unable to get anything done. In fact, she often took charge in the rebuilding of their pack as a distraction. Leigh had left home because everything and everyone around her were constant reminders of what she, of what they had all lost. And since the woman had a reputation for giving advice and helping the needs of others, many wolves came flocking to her for comfort, completely oblivious to her own frustration and sadness, all because she didn't cry. Because in this world, if you don't cry, you're not grieving.

It was no surprise that Kynareth, or any other wolf saw her calmness as rather odd. The she-wolf had turned away too quickly to see, but she was sure she left Sasha a bit stumped after their confrontation as well.

Leigh hadn't, and still didn't take the death of her family well. They kept her grounded in reality and now without them, she was floating between alignments and more-likely to give into violent temptations. Although the woman had kept herself contained, she would have been more than happy to kill Sasha during their previous talk. She still wanted to kill Sasha, but ignoring the pathetic bitch seemed to have left a bigger impact that a simple fight would have.

A few of Kynareth's words slipped her mind as she was consumed by thought. But Leigh managed to catch enough to knit the sentences together and obtain a general understanding of his reponces. And after he was finished, only one word came to mind.

Disgusting.

They were talking about her dead family and yet Kyn still turned it into an opportunity to flirt. Was she surprised? No. But that only made it more disappointing.

For now, the woman only had one simple message to send to the tiger-wolf. Perhaps she had tried expressing something similar before, but now she'd make her words loud and clear.

"You are free to blame so much on other wolves. You can blame your parents, you can blame their deaths. You can blame your loss and pain. All of your frustration, anger, and vengfulness can be explained away by what has happened in your past. But hurting people, killing people. That is your choice."

Maybe Kynareth would never truly understand. Maybe it was because he wasn't a real wolf.

"When we first met, I could see it in your eyes. You weren't happy because I was a brand new face that you could manipulate and mold. When you saw me you saw someone familiar. I don't know who it is, and I don't know why I remind you of someone else. But I know that some part of you, regardless of how small, looked at me and saw another wolf because that's exactly what I did when I met you."

Her once assertive tone softened, but the harshness in her voice remained. It was wrong to confuse calmness with forgiveness.

"And that fondness doesn't just come from nowhere. You don't project one's face onto another if, according to you, you don't care about or value relationships. That behavior sprouts from pain and loss. You do have the ability to care about other people. And you are hurt when those relationships fail or die. So, Kynareth Deagon, you are no monster. You're just pathetic."