We're disposable teens

Homeless. Again. The green female - no longer a queen - felt indifferent over the whole situation. She had lost her pack, her home, her pack-mates, her position, her reputation, though somehow that didn't seem so bad. A part of her just couldn't care less. She didn't think it would last long anyway. Who would have ever thought a couple of yearlings could lead a pack, let alone get married? What had she been doing, thinking she could do whatever, whenever? The thought itself was cringe-worthy, downright humiliating.

She had run from the battlefield, just before Rivaxorus had submitted to the female challenger. She knew he wouldn't succeed, and she could see it in his eyes that it was only a matter of moments before Myriad fell. She had been so close to forgiving him, to trusting him again. She had thought they could turn Myriad around, make it better, stronger. Now she didn't dare stay. If her family or former pack-mates followed - great. If not, she didn't give. She just wanted to be away from him, though she knew he always found her, in the end. That was the problem when she couldn't cut him out.