Blackfeather Woods bloom

He yells again and this time it is their father’s voice. She’s never noticed it before but she’s never been on the receiving end of Siarut’s rage. She’d never really been on this end of her father’s rage but she’s seen his anger and knows what he’s capable of. It’s hard to think her brother may have turned into him but she doesn’t want to see what he can do. She can cling to the hope that he wouldn’t hurt her but in that moment, she isn’t so sure he won’t release fangs upon her for her mistake. And who is she to fight back?
 
There’s a shift in the air and she dares to glance up, watching as his face changes, his anger redirecting but not where she suspects. “No, he didn’t do that,” she answers, though briefly she wonders if it would be better. Siarut wouldn’t be angry at her but it would cause more trouble and she can’t lie about the father, either, as he holds the crown over all of them. “I just… had a lapse in judgment. Do you not think I have worried about this since I found out?” she tries to tell him, licking her lips again—her posture remains crouched and low, hoping to keep some of the anger off her when it will no doubt return.