After everything Alpha Nyx said, the packhouse feels too loud and too close, even when no one is talking to me directly, so I tell Axel I need some air and I take myself outside before anyone can argue. The path curves away from the main grounds and into the trees, familiar enough that my feet know where to go even while my thoughts refuse to settle, and I walk until my lungs burn lightly and my head starts to clear just enough to hurt in a different way.
I keep turning the same question over and over, not because I want an answer but because I am afraid of what it might be.
Am I protecting the pack, or am I hurting it.
Every instinct I have says stay, anchor, hold, because that is what a Luna does, because that is what the bond asks of me, and because walking away feels like abandonmen
