it's burning through the bloodline

It seemed Mordecai had already made up his mind. What remained, then, was whether or not it was worth risking the loss of favour with his family at the Plateau. Andalusia had burned her own share of bridges when she'd left the Stalikkahs, but most of her packmates had understood her need to move on. Even her parents had let her go. It had been hard to leave, but necessary for more reasons than one, and they had understood her decision had not been made out of hatred or contempt. She loved them still, even miles away, and longed for their company when the lonely nights came upon her. But change was a part of life, and if someone couldn't see that, then that was something they'd need to figure out for themselves.

"Of course you're going to step on a few toes. You can't make everyone understand, especially if they're like kin to you." That was the nature of family. She'd been upset when Sumayl had left them, and Ciervo and Chehlia after, but she couldn't have stopped them, not when she had already been planning to do the same. From what she'd gleaned on her travels, most packs began with dispersals from others, and Andalusia wouldn't have been surprised if that had been how the Plateau had started as well. "Don't let fear of upsetting them stop you from going through with what needs to be done. They might not understand, but that's something they'll need to work out for themselves in time. You'll still have Harlyn. And whatever you do, you'll have me, too, if it counts for anything." She had already made up her mind on this: Mordecai stood as her only kin here, and she wasn't so willing to let him go just yet.