One ear quirked at the Alphess when she insisted on being called by a name of informality. Despoina shifted uncomfortably at the feeling of friendliness and struggled with adolescent uncertainty. Too many things clouded her mind as she tried to figure out who she was and who she wanted to become. The thoughts that always seemed to carve themselves into her mind were not always ones she had expected, nor desired. Some she knew were wrong, and those were often the more forceful.

She listened close to what Daenerys said, trying to match it up with what she felt. The pack was strong, it was true. But she felt lost in the crowd. There was a spot for her, but possibly not a place. Her eyes looked back up at Daenerys and considered her for a minute in silence. Should she really share with this Alphess what she was slowly starting to learn about herself? How badly she wanted someone to listen to her? No…. not listen. Obey. She cared for those she was loyal to, and she cared deeply. Never would she want to hurt them, or cause them pain. The confusion she saw on Myra’s face when she was angry broke the dark girl’s heart every time she snarled and sulked. But her paws longed to scratch, and her fangs to snap and watch someone shrink away from her in obedience. All her desires hurt her as much as denying them did.

Her eyes looked away from her elder, as if she worried Daenerys could read her thoughts and know what she felt.

”I take care of my sister.” She stated, staring at her paws. It was the simplest answer she could give, an answer she knew. The loyalty she felt to those who mattered to her she was sure could not be matched by any other creature who walked the earth. She knew she would go to the end of the earth and die for her sister, and she knew she would stand beside the brother that saved them if he called on her. Even Myra’s imprint had Despoina’s grudging protection, but only because of his link to her blood.

She thought about it longer and harder. How her life had been wrapped around that action. Taking care of Myra. She desired so much more, to have her fate and control of her life in her hands. To have her will be her’s.

Myra had been on her own for who knew how long, and her imprint had been beside her. She had been gaining others who could be around her and be with her. Despoina thought about it. Was she really angry at the world? Or was she scared she was losing the one thing that seemed to matter in her life?

She growled to herself in disgust with her own thought process before she remembered she was talking to someone.

”Sorry.” She muttered, secretly legitimately apologetic for that particular momentary rudeness. ”I take care of my sister. And I bite.” Was the most honest and truthful lie Despoina thought she had ever uttered in her life.