Basically, Elena was in a bad mood. Did this make her bad? No. Did this make her unlikable? Probably not. Did this mean she would be the antagonist to her own story? Definitely not. She existed with her own thoughts and her own personality – she was living. Unfortunately living things tend to have bad days; Elena was just having a bad day of her own.
She found herself stumbling through the territory with a limp. The limp was purely an accessory: an indication that she had gone through a lot to be able to come here. She was just melodramatic like that. Really, all that happened was that she scratched it against a wire fence. Nothing serious. Whatever. She would still use the dots of blood on her leg as an excuse to complain. Not that it made up her character, complaining, but she found a kind of catharsis that went with whining. Elena never had time to just complain, so whenever she could, she did. And to be honest, the freedom to complain and whine was the only thing keeping her sane.
Not that it mattered.
Whatever.
Elena hoped she was in the right place. Shadow Veil. ShadowClan. Whatever it went by, nowadays. She didn't want to intrude. She couldn't afford getting attacked when she had a godawful limp to deal with. So she sat by the border. Waiting. Watching. She hadn't even realized that her shoulders were tense. Why was she nervous? She relaxed. Waiting. Watching.