Trisden was not a wolf who abided weakness. Even as a child, she had rapidly displayed her predilection for strength and determination, and such were traits she had valued for a long time. Such were traits she still valued! But ever since the day with the snake, things had been different - and whereas such guilt and fear could have been overcome naturally, in time, they had only been compounded and intensified with the appearance of a devil's messenger. Trisden truly believed to her core that there was no other explanation, so targeted and effective the female's words had been. It had made everything terrifyingly clear, and yet Trisden still struggled to wrap her head around it. Just what was the devil planning? Did her actions truly make her forsaken? Was she unforgivable?

Was there no hope for escaping the evil path she had fallen upon?

Strength and determination. These two qualities rang deep and true in the young girl, two beacons of light to pierce through the shadowy darkness she felt enclosing her soul. Once, she had believed in these simple notions, and in her attempts to embody them, had believed in herself.

Had Trisden been of weaker heart, she would have allowed herself to forget this, and wallow in the misery of her own inevitable doom.

Trisden was not of weak heart.

Though shattered and torn, her core remained ever stubborn, and in the safe haven of Grizzly Hollow, and under the warming gaze and touch of her mother, Trisden had begun to let herself heal. The guilt never left, for indeed she clung to it; her remorse was her ticket to forgiveness, for she could not let such a fate befall the others she loved. Theo's loss would ensure the longevity of everybody else. She mourned his sacrifice every single day, but there came a point when that wasn't enough. Darkness was ever moving, ever seeking weakness, and Trisden felt the bitter sting of weakness and hated herself for it.

Self-loathing was neither productive nor helpful. The time she spent cursing herself could be better spent ridding herself of the curses already upon her.

Here was the breakthrough, the crux of the matter, but here she was stumped. Elettra knew the ways of physical healing, of mending beyond broken - but her talents could not have saved Theo, slain by nothing less than evil. Kiche was gone, and with him, all his endless wisdom. He may have held the answer, but there was no point in pining after him; that was not productive. Her mother was a being of purity, but though it pained her to accept, Jaysyek could not help her in this endeavour. Trisden understood that the things she believed to be true were not entirely shared by her family.

That's when the second breakthrough occurred. Though her remaining brother had been told as much as she in their youth, she knew that he had already retained the faith, perhaps even more strongly and consistently than herself. If nothing else, Hocus could provide council; he, in his endless scepticism, would at least understand the seriousness of her plight. She needed a practical way to rid herself of the evil haunting her, and what was Hocus if not pessimistically pragmatic?

He would be at the den, she knew; his sleeping habits were regular and easy to follow. With a small rodent at her paws (for her hunger as well as a divine offering, if Hocus thought it might work) she lifted her head and howled softly, just enough to carry to the den.

It was time to move on.

She tried to keep a steady head and heart as he came to her, obliging, faithful. The brother she needed. Her expression serene, she sat as he approached, an almost business-like manner to her movements. She did not miss how he eyed her dead mouse, though for the moment did not mention it. He could make of it what he wanted; it was his advice she sought, after all.

He said nothing, and Trisden watched his expression carefully, noting the hint of weariness behind his eyes. But she could not worry about that, or what he thought of her. She could only worry about what needed to be done. Letting her eyes flutter closed, she cleared her throat softly, and lifted her nose a fraction - a ghost of the pride she had once possessed. "I need advice," she said plainly. "You're the only one who... knows. Who believes. I need to know what you think He would have me do... to fix everything."