Sleepy Fox Hollow such sweet nothing

Stop it. 

If anything, the intensity of the growl elevates. There had been a time where he would do her bidding and he'd oblige without a care. It had been easy then. He had a family. He had a life. Now, there is nothing but the sour hatred that fuels him and pushes him from one day to the next. 

He'd be completely content to never having run into her again. The fire that develops, spurning the world around him, had been enough to keep her on his mind more than he'd ever wanted to or admit. It is likely the only thing that had driven him further south when the last thing he wanted was to be near the lair and the life he left behind only to fall into the death he's meant to lead. His lips curl in a deafening snarl, reminding him who he is now. Surma unravels his limbs as snakes that reveal the way he goes now. The moon brightens his full form and the fresh, pink scar glimmers beneath its shine from wounds that she would have never treated. Scars cover beneath his thick fur that had grown in but those curtesy of his father will continue to be a reminder for years to come. 

The question falls upon deaf ears when he does not respond or even entertain the idea of giving her an answer, when all he wants is for her blood to spill. She flashes between the woman he though he cared about to a whore he does not recognize, to a fraction of his father. Surma barks, bellowing his pained wrath while his legs move reduce their distance. Separated only by a few feet, he snaps his teeth at her in warning but knows she will not move, will barely even flinch, but he presses on with a few more steps and deals one final warning in her face.