Damita was confused by the chief and his son; while they’d not shown her any hostility, she had been taken from her father without the chance to see her sisters – They were both married, both had given her a niece and a nephew. Was it because she was the youngest, unmarried, that she had been chosen to bare such a position? She could not understand why no other had been chosen. Such thoughts had proved to be her undoing, the little Spanish Senorita collapsing into tears as soon as she’d reached a place far enough away that she’d thought that no one would hear her.<br/><br/>Hands came up to wipe hot tears from her face, new ones falling to replace them, Damita’s shoulders shaking with each muffled sob. Forgiveness was not a word that she used lightly, nor would it be used when speaking of her father – How could she forgive someone that had given her no warning? It was all too much for her, Damita feeling emotionally drained, hollow; she wanted and needed to hold onto her anger, though even that eluded her for the moment. Head snapped upward as she felt the presence of someone behind her, the fur shrouding her in warmth she didn’t want to feel.<br/><br/>His words were met with an unwavering stare, the little princess finally nodding, cinnamon gaze falling to the ground as she pushed herself up unsteadily, a hand braced against the tree she’d hidden herself behind.<br/>