Dragoncrest Cliffs The bottle stench may be here to stay

It had felt like there was a lake full of water, pushing continuously at a dam that only let a few small trickles through at any point in time. But the pressure had built up until finally, something had let go, and she learned what it was to have both the freedom and the heavy responsibility of communicating verbally. The more her mother explained, the more she felt this newfound wave of pressure flow through her, and out of her. She was being invited to speak, and when Rosalyn convinced her that she'd been heard all along and took a step toward her, Chacal broke- and dashed toward her mother. 

She was not a child anymore, and could no longer wind her way into her mother's embrace by snaking beneath her limbs but she pressed against her mother's chest and nuzzled her muzzle into the fur of her shoulder regardless. Her breath hitched as she leaned against her mother, and she felt herself experience regret, for having been so obstinate. "I am sorry, I am sorry," She recited, to the tune of a lullaby, as though that might serve to put their conflict to rest.