The Sunspire For in his eye were stars that burned

liar.

the howl had her stiffen, her whole body growing rigid with tension. last time she'd seen him, he'd told her he wanted nothing to do with her, with Olive, with their shattered family. he'd offered fantastical stories about where he'd been, made sure the blame for what they'd all become was as far removed from his conscious as possible, and abandoned their family for some new bitch he'd been so proud to brag of. 

traitor.

she was already moving towards the sound, wobbling somewhere in between fury and a dark, silent emotion she could put no name to. attention was honed on the sound, the dim figure a hundred yards ahead. he'd left her bleeding in the dirt last she'd seen him, was the cause of one of the scars lining her throat after she'd erupted in youthful anger at the man that had fled her family, only to return with excuses and honeyed words. fifty yards, now, and she was settling more fully into the emotion that guided her like an arrow, that took her fury and honed it. 

coward.

her maw opened when she came within range, with the intent of delivering some warning. and yet it did not come, and instead her maw opened wider, and she dove for his face, fangs flashing and hackles rigid upon her spine, where she supposed they'd been bristling some time already. he'd decided, he'd done what he had, and he did not deserve, could not, come back. he had made it clear where his love and loyalties lay, and it was not with them, not with his daughter and not with his mate. 

and so she moved with all the hate and fury that the Woods had instilled in her, the kind that had been growing and budding under her pelt since she'd left the carrion-stained cave. it drove her and did so freely, and so freely did she give herself up to its direction, its freedom, and the pure satisfaction of charging at her sire's face with every intent of shredding it.