Fox's Glade and I don't feel no remorse, and you can't see past my blinders

she knew her mother's devotion to the gods, and yet could not suppress a forced snort. "no. you could have stayed, for me, at least. you died when you fled." her gaze flashed with growing anger as he tried to cover his own mistakes, tail shifting behind her. "you're a coward." in some ways, his story mirrored hers; taken from their fractured little family. she wondered, then, if the gods her mother loved so were, in fact, more than minor beings she'd never paid much mind to, and if so, what fault they found in her family. but she was spared delving deeper into the thoughts by her father's continued words, and gradually, her gaze grew to the same intensity it had upon meeting her brother in the shadow-streaked cave. by some miracle, her anger did not snap as it had then, though she wondered briefly how she could have ever loved such a coward.

but it was his final words that had the hackles rise along her nape, her gaze to bore into him with an intensity. "don't pretend it's easier for me to think you dead. we're your mess up, and you'd rather cut us away and start your better life with whatever bitch's scent is so thick on your fur." her gaze burned with the same green fire she'd regarded her brother with so long ago, and here was that fragment of her old self, reemerging once more. "it doesn't work like that, father. you don't get to cut out the parts you don't like." for once, she felt an odd sense of pride in her terrible messed-up self and her family, the one her father would rather have never existed. she realized now that she'd rather accept all the twisted parts of herself than be a coward like the stranger before her.

an ugly snarl grew low and deep in her throat, and the wild, dark anger that had grown steadily during her time in the wood reared its head, and she stalked after the retreating form of the man she'd once called da. unfairness, anger and disgust coiled in her chest, and she knew she could not let her father simply walk away. "coward." the decree was hissed moments before she moved, fangs poised to grasp her father's hind leg as she lunged, determined to make her father's final departure as messy as she could. it was an action driven by some of the same anger she'd sen upon meeting her brother, and yet this was clearer, more direct.

and this time, the shadow knew how to fight.