Heron Lake Plateau awaiting your mistake

Screech done fucked up, lol.

Raven had always been the lupine embodiment of sunshine. Sweet, generous, caring, warm, and compassionate, the healer had always given 110% of herself to everyone around her and she'd done it with a smile. It was who she was. She loved to care for others, make them happy, and see them thrive. It was what drove her to be a healer, what inspired her to keep learning and refining her craft. As good folks went, Raven was one of the best.

But here's the thing about good people: they might have an incredibly long fuse, but when they finally blow, people get hurt. Thunder rumbles, lightning crackles in the sky. Children flee in the streets as the earth shakes, volcanoes explode, and entire cities burn down to the ground. And Raven was very near that point when Titmouse finished speaking.

As he spoke, her gaze had become something cold and threatening, drilling into his eyes with all the razor-edged malevolence of a butcher knife. Her hackles had begun to bristle, and when he stopped talking, a moment of silence descended between them in which the only sound to be heard was a soft, low growl that rumbled in her chest. "You'd better be joking," she said in a deceptively calm voice, not taking her eyes off of his. "Or else you can get your ass out of my pack now."

It enraged her that, after everything she'd done for him -- all the times she'd nurtured him, doctored his wounds, been his shoulder when he'd needed one, defended him, and counseled him when he was lost and confused -- he could try to take advantage of her new status and threaten her into something he knew he didn't deserve. Seriously, what was with these damned Redhawk kids and blackmail? Had he not thrown in that last little bit, they might have had a good conversation about the subject. But whatever willingness she might have had to discuss it was quickly squashed beneath the weight of his threat.