Porcupine Ridge For a mother, a brother and me

The seconds were long in a fight. It seemed like an eternity had happened before Taggarik sharply called back his pack, and she found herself in a line at the Ridge borders, her gaze wild and frightened. Adrenaline kept her hackles raised and her muscles taut despite the surrender of the opposing wolves. She desperately wanted to be relieved of the nefarious energy coursing through her, daunted by what it had done to her.

She had leapt into battle! Fur blazing and teeth bared. Where had she learned such a thing? The only times she had ever bared her teeth before had been in grins and grimaces, and just a week away from her roots and she had already had her first fight. Diane recalled the instant regret she had felt, as her teeth clipped the enemy and he in turn snapped back at her, cruelly piercing the flesh of her forearm. She felt confused by what had driven her to fight in spite of her injury, and belatedly she realized it was the first time another wolf had ever broken her skin...

A raw and unbidden hate crawled through her as she stood with her pack, and though she didn't recognize the dark emotion, shame came overwhelmingly with it. She pulled her ears back and took several small steps backwards. She'd barely moved at all, gold eyes still intent on those retreating. Diane wanted to leave as the others disappeared and the tension in the air began to dissipate, but she didn't quite feel dismissed yet.

Remembering her body, she could suddenly feel a harsh stinging in her forearm, and she peered sadly at her first wolfborne wound. She bent and arched her neck to lick the toothmarks left in the wake of a territory skirmish. Her ears rotated as she tended to her wound, listening for moment the Alphas might address this thing... whatever it had been.