Northstar Vale Yestertempest

His company stood inadvertently on his bad side -- so he heard her before he saw her -- and the goliath's vile reaction was instantaneous; echoing his name to all those who had never heard it. His fur rippled to stand on end as he rounded towards the source of the noise, his teeth flashing and wet as a snarl tore through him and vibrated in the direction of his aggressor...

Except, as his eye took her in, the dauntless slim figure of silver and white, he was struck suddenly by long-forgotten visions of a mountain, and its valley. There was a girl, too young for him to care about, hardly out of her juvenile ungainliness, but with a spirit tenfold of those who harbored her. Those mountain wolves had been weak, but from their soft kiln they had managed to produce something hard. A diamond, he would've known, if he had ever earned the knowledge of calcified minerals.

Warbone's teeth quivered into the sheath of his lips, and his expression hardened even as his body lost half of its viciousness; staved by a memory he should not surely have. It was her eyes, mostly. An unforgettable lagoon shade. He remembered them peering up at him, and he remembered not knowing what to do with her unwavering attention. Much like he didn't know now.

"Get out," he said quietly, suddenly afraid of the uncertainty she'd colored him with. He didn't seem to mean it, feeling manipulated by her gaze, but it was all Warbone could say in that instance. He needed to be rid of her, lest he recall fully who she was, or why she was individual to him. The once-adoring fangirl turned wholly into woman. A siren surely meant to be the end of him.