Sleeping Dragon wildwood

He did it! He got passed the mean lady! He could gra– oh, wait. No, he still couldn't grab the leaves. While he'd succeeded in darting passed her, her legs had still been able to move quicker than his own. Between the boy and the poison ivy the woman had stationed herself, causing for Hvit to huff. A glare never left his eyes, head having tilted back so that he could stare up at her face. What had he done to her to make her so cruel? He couldn't remember having ever acted against her, for rare was it for him to act out at all. There was no reason that existed for her to treat him as she did, which made the whole situation extremely confusing.

Opening his mouth, he'd acted as if he was about to speak, but nothing came out—not right away, anyways. In his frustration, he'd muttered, "Portia." He wanted her, not the stranger. The plant lady didn't steal from him, she only taught him things. She was his favourite teacher, whilst Lucia had easily earned herself a place as his least favourite wolf in all of the world; his world, at least, which wasn't that big at all.