Sawtooth Spire Wanna believe, wanna believe that you don't have a bad bone in your body

ahahahahahahahaha hi cameo

phaedra's lie that she had plans with stag went without trouble. she had been playing with caintigern all afternoon, and was romping with him through the fringes of their rendezvous site when she came on the scene of a galvanic conflict between her parents, the air and ground under her feet fraught with the energy of a lightning storm as words clashed and clanged like glaives. the pads of her feet harvested the energy they sowed and sent a bolt of fear up her legs. 
on paws as quiet as the stirring of leaves she slipped into the cover of ferns to eavesdrop on this meet. "these your parents?" cain asked. phaedra could only nod, unable to break her eyes away or dare utter a word. "they seem nice." she hushed the marten, worried she wasn't the only one who could hear him.
wylla was other, oscillating between shrieks of rage and sobs of despair; it was such a frightening production, and seeing her mother like this planted a seed of fear that burrowed deep in her chest. 
on word of mahler; her pupils narrowed and seemed to flee from the expanding whites of her eyes as his voice grew and grew and grew until a great clap of thunder burst from him. phaedra instantly straddled the earth, wetness strewing from beneath her tail. was she dreaming? to reality test herself, she pressed a claw into the pad of her other foot ... when it didn't pass through, she knew she was not having a nightmare. this was a daymare, one she only wished she could awaken from. 
she remained prostrate, in the puddle of her own making, too shocked and mortified to move, not to mention that damned wind blustering against her. she would fall right over if she tried to back away and run at once to a safer place. howsoever, when she peered through them, the ferns were only softly breathing against a leeside tree. it was the adrenaline dump bringing forth the wind that shook her body with such vigor, not any act of nature. 
she flinched at every expletive, yet found she also flinched at every soft-spoken word. both of her parents had revealed themselves to be terrifying, and she wasn't sure how to immediately reconcile that within herself to feel the comfort she needed to feel. is this how all grown-ups are when they think we're not watching? she asked herself, standing to trembling legs and feeling a cold finger run down her spine as the pee soaking through her fur to her skin felt the sigh of the breeze speak against her body. 
she could smell herself. they would smell her soon, too, and the thought of being caught spying on their private "conversation" made her stomach double-back-handspring with anxiety. she'd heard enough, and while shame burned under the fur of her cheeks when her mother made manifest that she'd wet herself at night, anger too flared up. and here she was, standing on another platter of piss, best served cold.
"c'mon, we'll find a place to clean you up." the marten whispered against her lobe before trouncing away.
what was wrong with her? she wanted to cry, but she chose defiance: she wouldn't shed a tear, not in the presence of cain. 
wheeling on her heels to follow, phaedra's streaming tail carelessly disturbed the ferns, but she had longer legs to carry her farther faster now away from the homilies and stream of abuse, and secret alcoves in which to hide after she forced herself to bathe in the shallowest stream they could find.