The Tangle i’m in trauma it’s got me singing-

These two wolves, they had to be telling her that these lands were claimed, right? Why else would the one act so vehemently towards her, a lone female just trying to hide out somewhere? Perhaps Isleña shouldn’t have been so testy upon lands that weren’t actually hers — or perhaps she should have been more vigilant in the picking out of her hidey-spot — but the fact that these lands were claimed came as a true surprise to the banshee. She always had relied too much on her strength in numbers, after all, and let the sheer mass of her family flatten any would-be dangers into the dust. If she didn’t notice something, then an uncle or a brother or a cousin would, and they would all be better for it. Isleña cursed at herself, silently, for fucking up so badly. 

“Yours — also for me,” she tried. Maybe by simply saying this one tiny enclave was hers, might it become true? Isleña had always been indignant, and it had always worked out for her before, but she didn’t know about these fiery newcomers. At another time, Isleña might have welcomed the company and delighted in a nice repartee, but she was feeling quite vulnerable and scared — which was why she had taken up residence in the tony brambles in the first place. “I need more.” — than you she might have tacked on if she had been fluent in the common tongue, but she tried anyways to make her meaning known. Then, Isleña curled back in on herself and tried to bury herself deep amongst the bushes.