The stars shimmered coldly overhead, their slow turn across the sky the only thing to mark the passing of the long winter night. Spieden huffed as she rolled from one side to the other every few minutes, digging a rut in the snow she had bedded down in. No position was comfortable enough, and despite the warm bodies that slept near her, it wasn't anything like the Bend. Too cold, too open, too empty, nothing felt right, nothing looked right, and the knowledge that nothing would go back to the way it had been haunted her.
Just when she thought sleep was within her grasp, it all came flooding back. The little details about that day had etched itself into her brain, her mind spinning endlessly but getting nowhere. During the day it was easier, there were sights and sounds, other wolves, a mission to distract herself with. But the night was too quiet, and Spieden was left all alone with her thoughts. The confidence in Aponi's stance, the cold indifference of Serach at her side. She wondered how long it had all been brewing, what signs she had missed before that. Was there anything she could have done to stop it before it all surged to a crest. She remembered the anger of betrayal, she remembered hitting Aponi, and she remembered being held down, looking into those pale blue eyes and praying for mercy. Strangely, she couldn't remember what happened in the evening after that. That bothered her just as much, and like a scab she couldn't help picking at it just to see what ugly wound sat underneath.
Quietly Spieden rose, deciding she had enough of pretending to sleep. She lightly tread around the group and stepped off into the trees. She didn't have to go far before the forest floor in front of her dropped to give way to a rocky ridge. The pale light from the thin crescent moon reflected off the surface of the fjord below, revealing a breathtaking vantage point that was somewhat lost on her. Spieden stopped here, sighing heavily and sitting down.