Blackfeather Woods ɪᴛ ғᴇᴇʟs ʙᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ ʙɪᴛᴛɪɴɢ ᴅᴏᴡɴ

Every time she lunges, she is met with air and words, something that frustrates her to no end. He is to be the target of her rage, not something that refuses to fit. Defeated solely by his refusal to engage, she moves back, hackles prickling and gaze glinting with frustration and fire. At the words messed-up, however, she snorted, almost letting slip a painful laugh.  "Messed up?  One brother kept by another pack, one leaving to join murderous maniacs. A dead father, a grieving, absent mother, and some idiot girl who got herself trapped in a godforsaken cave." Suddenly seeing her brother is more painful than she would admit, and the fire in her gaze sparks and dies. 

Quietly, she adds,  "We've all passed the point of 'messed-up', brother." She turns, no longer wanting to see the face of the brother she gave up so long ago, sliding back into the darkness of the cave, quickly swallowed by the shadows that have come to be so familiar.