Arrow Lake I'm only pretty sure that I can't take anymore

There was much to say, and the ivory sylph held her tongue to cheek as the other woman uttered only one word—peace. The woman drew herself upward, her jeweled gaze studying the other with the entirety of dislike she felt for her, not once attempting to pretend otherwise. Speaking her mind was a dangerous slope, though, for she knew once started she would not stop. Takiyok’s disdain for the existence of her children incited her, and the fact the she-wolf stood before her, only offering a single word in return of the events that had unfolded was deplorable.

Not only had Takiyok vocalized her displeasure at the fact Stigmata had found a mate, but Ketzia would never forgive the woman for monopolizing his time so persistently. Her demand for him to make up for his assumed betrayal when finding love had run him ragged.

Perhaps, had he not been driven by the guilt that the arctic had placed upon him, he would have been more vigilant. Perhaps he would not have fallen victim to the terrible blow.

She could not voice this. Not if she were to uphold her word to Mahler, and so, with a stiffened nod, the mother bear gave a begrudging nod, her own muzzle held in pride as she kept lip over fang. “Peace, then,” she purred, though her smoky voice held none of its usual playfulness.

She saw no need to continue the discussion, and so with a swift glance up and down the newly titled Kapitan, Ketzia turned back to her den and children, not yet ready to discuss the dynamics the two women found themselves pushed in to.