Neverwinter Forest up in smoke

Her sights were quick upon the dusty-coated male, rife with some hazy shimmer of almost-validation. His scars, the ones etched onto him by her daughters, identified him perfectly for her. Finally, she got to lay her eyes upon perhaps one of the unluckiest wolves in the wild's recent span. She would never know why him, but the blame fit so nicely upon him and already this balance was supposed to be maintained. Now he was disobeying what the cerberus had declared: that he never come to where they could see him and yet, here, just a few stretches from their very doorstep was this piece of shit. As if his wrong-place, wrong-time antics at her borderlands had not been enough, something in him must have yearned for much more.

Hydra relinquished him to her and she honed in more. She rose more too, now baring her teeth at him from a greater height far more openly as she slid closer, shifting into where her daughter let her have the space to do so. Disdainfully, she looked down her wrinkled muzzle at him. "He is pitiful," she murmured to Hydra before her attentions moved away towards the other dark shadow. The alpha glanced him over, up and down, and smelled the fresh urine. Such earned him a new glare. Miserable, awful thing. Death would be a courtesy, and she wanted to see him suffer.

Amekaze didn't pin him down except with the loom of her presence. For good measure she abruptly swung a snap of her jaws at his muzzle. A warning, to test how fast he could move, or not. His call. How badly had they throttled him already, and more importantly, did he even possess the good sense to get the fuck out? She had little expectation for wolves of his stock; to her, they were never the brightest.  Her next, faster swing of her teeth seemed to start to encourage him up, or else she would keep coming until he had no more flesh to rend.