Wheeling Gull Isle snake eyed with a sly smile.

ava’s small teeth found their target - in her mind she was a fierce predator shredding flesh from limb. 

in reality, her little toothpick teeth did little more than part the golden shafts of caracal’s fur. 

she was blissfully unaware of the matrix of emotions she’d inspired in her father. her own pain had subdued, the storm of anger abating with it. 

she flinched as a drop of blood landed besides her, darkening her father’s blonde arm with a stain of merlot. for a long time ava peered at it, before she looked upside down at caracal and noticed a thread of blood from one eye. 

oops.