Dragoncrest Cliffs when icarus fell apollo went insane with grief

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Eske hears the footfalls approaching, the scent of Heda clings to the pelage of the other but she recognizes the more poignant scent as that of the prisoner. He intercepts her path and she stops, with reluctance and heavy hostility in her movements as her sea-glass gaze falls sharply upon the indignant child who throws her a mocking look to go with his insolent words. Her tail rises high over her back, upper lip curling back from her teeth. He has nerve for not submitting to her. She is Cheka and he…he is nothing to her. He is less than nothing. She itches to tear into his mocking expression for speaking to her. She does not answer, grinding her teeth together from sinking down to his pathetic level though the restraint is great. Eske has never been great at controlling her aggression and in her emotional state her grief is only gasoline to her. “Go crawl on your belly back to Heda, Honon.” She spits the word prisoner in her native tongue to him, accenting her words with a low snarl. She is no mood for him and if he did not cease to provoke her ire it would be only Thuringwethil that could save him from her. If he did not leave her be Eske would have no issue about putting him in his rightful place: in the dirt beneath her with her teeth wrapped around his throat.

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