She huphs loudly, throwing the broken stick aside, and trying to extricate herself from her fathers arms. Her eyes narrow and she glares at the villagers, her voice, usually calm and clear is almost shrill with anger and outrage.<br/><br/>"Don't blame the pig, and don't blame Gara. We tried to refuse this ridiculous situation, but everyone was so happy at the thought of humiliating us that they just kept goading. The time to stop this was BEFORE it got to this point. You want people to blame, blame that old T'skring, and blame Brendon and his pack of cronies!!"<br/><br/>She glares at the crowd, ignoring the tears and the coating of mud<br/><br/>"I hope you all got the big laugh you wanted out of this."<br/>