That deafen us like hurricanes

Whisper stood at the entrance to the Col for what felt like moments but must have been an age, lightheaded and short of breath, a rock stuck in the back of her throat, or was that her heart? Surely everyone else could hear it, it roared like thunder in the back of her skull, teeth clenched and body cold like the wave of water that had swept through this exact gap in the rocks and swept her away. A tremble swept through her body, and she gasped for air, hair standing in ragged edges along the edges of her burns. Kite wasn't here to save her anymore. Grandpa was gone, and she couldn't even step foot in a whole territory the pack she lived in called home, not easily, and it was the central hub. There was a meeting she had to get to and her feet had fused with the stone that marked the edge of the place she needed to be.

Bile burned the back of her throat as she fought to lift a paw, every step forward feeling like she was trying to move the mountain itself. She had to stop and empty her stomach more than once before she reached the gathering. Hanging at the back of the group, not daring to sit, frenetic energy coursing through her veins, she paced instead like a caged tiger, sharp edges and short-tempered. She hated it. She fucking hated it, and the sooner she could leave this place the better. She did hope Bas wouldn't waffle on.

"speech"