Phantom Hollow a slab in the morgue

“Shut—”

Oh, so he thought he could speak to her now, did he? Even through her continuous ranting she was able to pick up on his voice. In an instant, she was standing tall and glaring at him, head cocked to the side with her chin pointed downwards—similar to a cat about to attack. Although he didn’t finish his sentence, she had a pretty good idea of what he was planning on saying, and none of it fell under the category of what she considered acceptable. Flashing her teeth, she took a slow, small step towards him, eyes unblinking. The nerve of this guy! Not only had he touched her, but now he was trying to talk back to her? What was the world coming to! A wolf—and a male, no less—speaking to her as if she was just another pup out for a stroll. She scoffed at the thought.

What really got to her was that it didn’t stop there.

All of a sudden, he raised his voice with her, earning another few steps in his direction and a low growl. “Well maybe if you didn’t look like a carcass, I wouldn’t have jumped you,” she countered, certain she was in the right—because, come on now, when wasn’t she? “Who gave you permission to talk back to me anyways?! Shut the hell up already—don’t you think you’ve done enough? Touching with me your filthy self… do you know how long it’s going to take me to get the image of that”—she jutted her chin out further, motioning towards his empty eye socket—“touching me out of my head?! Disgusting.” The thought alone made her stomach twist with nausea.

“And what the fuck is Moonspear?” she asked, spitting the name. “Why the hell would I go there? Is that where you lost your face? Fuck that—I’m not going there.” Risk messing up her pretty face? Never! How would anyone survive knowing that her beauty was wiped clean from the earth?