Blackfeather Woods He thrusts his fists against the posts

Andalusia in and Andalusia out.

Blackfeather Woods. The tang of blood soaked the darkness and Andalusia curled her lip. She had followed the barbarian here - his scent trail, at least. He had managed to flee from them with his life - but not this time. She would make sure of that.

Movements peeled between the shadows, chilling and unfamiliar. The forest resounded with the din of war, and Andalusia rushed into the thick of it.

The battle unfolded in chaos, and blood masked every scent, but she knew her own by sight - Elwood. A scrappy boy.

And Sebastian. The sting of bile touched her throat.

He fell to the ground by one of the scum, and she rushed forward with a snap of her jaws just as the dark one pulled away. Her teeth clicked with the empty air, and the Blackfeather's scent engulfed her. His scent was unmistakable, and she sprung to follow - only to hitch mid-step to swing back to Sebastian. Blood pooled around him - he staggered to get up. She could overtake the heathen, she knew. He was injured, she could tell by his stagger - but that wasn't what was needed of her now.

Frustration pressed her breath. She hardly cared for what consequences might come for leaving her post with the pups, but she had a good reason - she had been doing they'd asked. And now, she would help as she could here. Andalusia pressed against Sebastian's side to offer him something firm to lean against, as she had once offered him on a similar day, a long, long time ago.

They had to stop meeting like this.