Hushed Willows mama, please—let me back inside

She had never considered herself a wolf who was pure of heart. Tzila had a downright bad attitude, was selfish and believed in looking only after herself. But for some reason, here today in this very moment, perhaps she was pulled back to her roots. To her earliest days of childhood in her natal pack, even before the bitter rivalry between she and her brother began.

When one mighty paw sliced through the air, tossing Lily aside like a tattered rag doll, something snapped. Her silver eyes full of deadly she watched as the limp form of the wolf who had stood at her side crumpled to the ground, crimson pooling under her too still body. The warm spray of fresh blood, not her own, against her crinkled muzzle, was what drove her dreadful realization home.

Tzila may not be good, but she wasn't heartless either. These wolves...this pack who had so openly took her in, didn't deserve this.

Wide eyes filled with a primal fury, she let out a banshee war cry as she barreled forward, past and through any wolves in her way. Pivoting deftly on her feet, she swung around in a blur of black and mahogany fur, launching herself at the unprotected rump of the bear. She looked more like a great cat pulling off a maneuver used to take down prey, rather than a measured hunter. With a roaring snarl, strings of saliva stretched between bared sabers of teeth, she bit above the spine, deep down to the bone.