Redhawk Caldera malice through the looking-glass

he tensed for peregrine to lash out, but instead his former paramour spoke, and lasher gleaned what he could from the panther's cold words. the mention of the ruby gripped his heart with fire; of course she would be behind the attacks, the sudden change of the man before him. he knew not peregrine, not this icy-hearted demon who spoke with such vitriol and vehemence, who denounced the bonds of friendship and family and yes, yes, lust! which had bound him warmly to the plateau.

fox. fox. the bitch. first she had turned peregrine's head, both of them really, and had planted the seed of a new world in his willing ear. the panther had abandoned his pack then, lasher, all of it, for the barely mature loins of a cruel and ambitious girl. and now, here he was, puppetted still -- there was nothing left of peregrine's logic, nor his intelligence. only brutality remained.

succubus! whore! he bit back the words, for whatever magick fox wended, peregrine had always been a strong beast. it fell to him also, to take up the reins of leadership and stand for himself. whatever guilt drove him would now burn his ties to those who adored him -- as she wished. fox wanted the panther to herself, devoid of all history past and present -- and it seemed she had gotten her way.

peregrine did not seem to care about his pale daughter's plight. admittedly, blue willow's masterful and quick skills would preserve the girl, and she would return home, perhaps scarred, but alive. there was more here than peregrine would say, but his refusal to unearth his testicles from whatever dank gutter fox had thrown them into would cost him far dearly than perhaps he realized now.

"outsiders," lasher repeated in a low tone edged with steel. he would not be escorted away as if he were some fool; the earthen beta backed quickly from peregrine and stood aside. his eyes rested on the other's face, but at last the hurt was bleeding into wrath. 

"junior is disappeared also, and we worry," he added, though it was apparent peregrine cared no longer. perhaps hawkeye had been correct in her assumptions of him. 

with that, lasher backed several more paces and then whirled, the flesh of his back rippled with fear, and slid into a quick lope intended to carry him as swiftly as possible in the direction of home.