The Heartwood Fear's got a hold on me

:o

The gaunt she-wolf prowled without any sign of prey. Even the smallest vole would have sufficed. Unfortunately, some fresh scat alluded that a fox had supped here recently. With a frustrated huff Tuwawi turned to travel deeper into the woods. Perhaps she could unearth a mouse or, better yet, a hare. However,  faint rustling in the underbrush caught the ember's attention before she could move on. One ear orbited, followed by a steely gaze... something was watching. In the distance two glowering orange eyes turned green as they reflected back... and the snipey, darkened head of a familiar witch was rimmed in blue light. 

Rage electrified her nerves anew - an icy hotness numbing the present and refreshing the past. Caiaphas. The sea litch who had planted the lie of Stavanger's treachery, only to have committed the crime herself. She had considered her ilk stronger than Duskfire's forces, but they had been scattered like roaches. Even now, though Tuwawi was weak from hunger, she felt empowered by the memory of felling the siren's silver kin... his tepid blood still salty on her palate. 

Black, tattered lips furled viciously across her fangs as her wild red mane stood on end. The collar's touch stung like a fresh burn, reminding its bearer of her grief. She wanted nothing more than to squeeze the life from the wretch's withered heart; ire like a decapitated hydra - doubling with every offense. With a burst of speed Tuwawi haphazardly plowed from the glen towards the bramble in a pointed attack, believing she possessed the strength to utterly crush the urchin once and for all.