the overactive mind of a believer

Art sighed, but he stayed next to her. She wasn't getting rid of him too easily, it seemed. Avantika didn't honestly know whether or not she wanted him to be around at this moment or not. She normally loved chatting with her noble brother, but she couldn't shake the feeling that this was going to end up being a bit more than just a chat. He had that concerned look on his face that meant that he thought something was wrong and he wanted to fix it. Tough luck buddy, she thought. There was no fixing this. It wasn't broken, she reminded herself. She was protecting her pack. Even if it caused some momentary discomfort for her, it was by far worth it. The broken thing was that she was too selfish to just accept her lot in this life; she was too arrogant not to dream of more than she would ever be allowed. She had too many fantasies of her and Audra and her family and children, all fairy-tale-happily-ever-after blissful with not a threat in the world to defend them from. But that wasn't how the world worked.

Oh, Art and his reassurances. She wanted to believe him. But she would never be strong if she let herself rely on other wolves. Still, her eyes prickled with tears, even though she still wasn't looking at Art. She sighed softly. She hated feeling this way. "I'm sorry." was all she could say. She didn't even know what she meant by it. She didn't know whether she wanted his help. He'd made her feel better when she came to him with her worries before, but she didn't know whether she wanted to feel better. All she really knew was that she wanted to keep patrolling. Why did people try to keep her from that? "I want to believe you," she said quietly. She didn't know what else to say.

"Anyway, what have you been doing lately?"

"Speech"