She missed the mountains.
With every step she took in the forest, feeling it's soft flooring, she longed for the harshness of the rocks and caves of her home. Every breath she drew, she longed for the fresh, cold air of the waterfall. As she sprung -sometimes a bit too late- on the prey of this land, she remembered how it was like to work as a group and catch eagles. Eagles! Not these small, malnourished mice and rabbits, but the kings of the sky. Even the water was different, too. There seemed to be more pollution, and wasn't as clear and clean as the mountain springs. And as she looked upon the Clan, as she was doing now, she wished for their pelts to be replaced with the Tribe's.
She sighs, and closes her gold eyes, feeling full of regret.
I'll never fit in here. I cannot hunt like they can, I cannot get used to the way they live, and they cannot accept me. I can tell. Even though they let me hunt with them, sleep with them, eat with them, I can still see them out of the corner of my eye, staring at me, suspicious...I never felt like this in the Tribe.
"Brook?"
She is jerked out of her thoughts, and glances up towards the voice. Her eyes meet his amber ones. They're so full of concern, and worry. Suddenly, she feels her sorrows and doubts vanish, as she remembers the reason of why she came to this place. Why she followed him here, even though she could have stayed. How he always made her safe and wanted, and how conversations always came easily between the two of them, unlike with the others.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing. I'm alright, Stormfur."