The Sunspire black seas

Throws posting order out the window~ ~ ~

There was too much happening at once. Screech was alerted to teeth upon his flesh and the sharpness of the sensation, then the rise of his adrenaline to compensate. There was no telling how many blows he took instead of Redshank - and in the end it wouldn't matter, because Rannoch was thundering down upon those gathered and his voice was booming, demanding explanation. There was the briefest of lulls; Screech whipped about with teeth bared to warn away any oncoming danger to himself, but the rest of his body was low and snaking, his tail low and tucked to his belly. He knew he was doing the wrong thing — defending this interloper — but Screech would have to make a choice about Redshank, and soon, or face the wrath of the pack.

For now, he only hoped that Redshank would be stunned enough by the backlash of his stupid behavior - but this was the pot calling the kettle stupid here. Redshank abruptly dashed all of Screech's hopes when he shouted an overwhelmingly clear message. The boy was struggling against the bonds formed by the pack wolves, and they had not relented in holding him back, which was good.

Screech was struck with the scene before him, around him. All of these wolves that Rannoch had put his faith in — Redshank, the boy time left behind — and Rannoch, looking less and less like an ally and more like the leader of a gang of thugs. Screech was simultaneously impressed by Rannoch and afraid of him; he couldn't help but drop even lower, loosing a small whimper in his leader's direction, but the sound died in his throat. He didn't want to plead with Rannoch - he shouldn't fucking have to. Rannoch had always been the pinnacle of everything good in Screech's world but that mental image had fogged over with their separation, tarnished when they'd reunited, and now the boy wasn't so sure of anything.

He had to make up his mind but, he couldn't. So he was silent and stuck and it was awful.