Phoenix Maplewood i will take you as food and leave you as famine

Whatever teachings she had been given in Seageda are gone in that moment. They could only prepare her for so much when it had yet to happen and reaching a certain maturity without the aid of those around her, that understood, left her dangling in the wind. The few days this would last would not be much compared to the two months should she conceive—and carry—children. None that she even desires. Anger already boils within her, fighting the urge with her mind as much as she could allow.

However, she sees him before she smells him—her own scent overwhelming her—and their eye contact is enough to bristle the fur around her neck. She exhales a slow, steady breath and turns so that she faces him, her lips lifting in warning; peeled back against sharpened, hungry teeth.

Thuringwethil takes a slow step back to keep the distance between them, but something else catches her attention and she turns to see another. Her ears press against the back of her head at the sudden intrusion of another—one she doesn’t know—and glances back at Warbone. She knows she can’t keep an eye on both wolves at the same time, stuck between them, so she moves carefully to put a little more distance between the herself and the other two. Leaving the Dragon, while maybe a good idea at the time, had turned into more than she might be able to handle.

The shrill shriek of death catches her attention and she jerks her head in the direction, feeling her heart sink. With another around the corner, her legs frozen, she's uncertain of the best course of action. She might have been able to fend off Warbone. Maybe she could have outran the both of them, if she'd turned and tucked tail a moment ago, but a third cornering her in left a new rage in and a final warning of a snarl given even if there isn't much weight of her advantage to it.