Blackfeather Woods my love

The woman with her face newly broken and blemished, the gouge under her eye still oozed blood and was swollen, causing her eye to form a squint. It often throbbed, she hoped infection wasn't setting in. At the time of the call, she was wandering aimlessly, thinking over again and again of what had transpired. She felt she had done nothing wrong, and it wasn't like she attacked first.
No, her teeth only met the boy after he attacked her. Her first move was to intimidate and distract; she knew who his first target was. Speedy.

Her ears turned to the call, thinking of who it could be, before trotting to the borders. She kept well back in the shadows, they were her comfort whilst her face tried to heal. She spied a white male, his features were not as easily focused so, naturally, she stepped forward to see better. She recognised him for the man who told them to attack, who encouraged his pack to ask the questions, and some himself. 

However, she kept her cool and her silence. Just stood and stared at the man with hatred. He had the ability to stop the maiming attack, but he didn't. So she hated him. She waited for someone else to come and make him go away, for if she tried she feared she'd drop that tight leash of control.