Hushed Willows Hit the ground running

She knew it was all stupid, what she was saying. That it wasn't even logical. There had been no real consideration for anything; none for Tambourine, none for him, or the pack that she still had to run on her own. But Tavi was running her mouth — talking to him like Valette had suggested, but not about the right thing, because really Octavia wasn't prepared for it, and somewhere in her mind she knew that. Somewhere, beyond the threat of her disease, she knew she couldn't put her feelings in to words. So she ran, verbally anyways, and escaped from that responsibility by jumping on the next best thought.

His reaction made sense. It was logical. But the way it drove him against her, bringing reason where before there was none, made Octavia angry. Her anger was abrupt and just as meaningless as the threat she now posed before him of taking the child and abandoning the entire pack — but it flared up inside of her, and the Alpha puffed and bristled, recoiling as if he had struck her with a physical attack. Stark had never come against her in this way before and she, in her current state, couldn't understand why he resisted.

That, and knowing that she was the Alpha, meant he did not have the right to fight her on any decision. Whether she made this decision with a sound mind or not, he was merely a Beta - and she could take that away from him.

And then, before Tavi could form enough cohesive thought let alone a single word in protest, Stark did the next unthinkable thing — he threatened to take it away from her. Not just the pack, but her son. Force him to linger here with the crazy woman Harlyn and her awful little children! Octavia did a mental 180 when she heard him speak, and her body went rigid as if she were about to lash out at him - but it was almost like she couldn't remember how to do that. Instead of baring her fangs like she wanted, or even lunging as her posture implied she might, Tavi sputtered and looked utterly overwhelmed instead.

You -- you what? You can't do that, and she believed that. He had no right to take anything from her. And don't you dare compare Harlyn's -- Harlyn's -- shit, had she really forgotten the word for 'the next generation'? Tavi's mouth was a hinge as she struggled, but within moments she passed on that line of thought and ploughed in to the next: Tambourine is mine, and he's strong! He's a survivor. Aside from that, he isn't yours! Her voice rose in pitch and became something viceral, something primal, as if she were rallying all of her energies and all of her pent up feelings about Reek against him; and maybe she was, because for a split second Octavia thought she hated Stark as much as she loathed and feared the king of the grotto.