Phoenix Maplewood they will never be the same; a fire in a flask to keep us warm

apology turned to anger, and it was the suddenness of the change, it's intensity, that finally snapped the huntress from her stupor. something in the hollowness of her eyes flickered, twisted, and as soon as he finished did her own words fill the silence. "I do not blame you. it was his choice."  but civility ended there, and her muzzle wrinkled as she finally moved taking a step near. 

"but you don't get to accuse. you don't get to come here and hope we burn." her hackles prickled as all her shame and hurt and anger sharpened the words before her tongue spat them out, gaze molten. abruptly, as if realizing how exhausting it was, her anger dropped; lingering instead just below the surface should fangs and hackles be needed again. "why are you here, Alarian?"