Altar of Twilight Kindred Spirits

The stranger lithely jumped into her path, blocking her. Wildfire stopped, staring for a few seconds, before releasing her grip on the coyote. Its dead weight fell against her forelegs but she ignored the carcass entirely as an unfamiliar sensation washed through her. Well, it wasn't totally unfamiliar; she had experienced it a couple times now, since the attack. It was wrath.

"I told you no. No means no." The words were sharp as the lash of a whip and very cold. "Who do you think you are? Trying to tell me what to do?" she added in the next breath, the indignant fury catching fire and burning through her as if her insides were made of dry grass. "Get out of my way. I won't tell you twice."

When the other female's tail rose and she glared at Wildfire in an unmistakable challenge, another wave of rage crashed over her, chasing the momentary burst of fear at someone, a stranger, attempting to control her. She wouldn't stand for it, not again.

In fact, she wouldn't wait for the gray she-wolf to heed her warning, either. With a quiet snarl, Wildfire leaped over the dead coyote, aiming to snap her jaws at the she-wolf's face. She was in no condition to fight, yet there weren't many rational thoughts in her head at the moment. She just wanted this—this bitch to get out of her face.