Swiftcurrent Creek I know what I like and you're the only one of you

Wylla realized all at once that Cerulean wasn't much older than Tiercel, and that she was in the wrong for being so surly about the other's appearance. This was no man's land now, but it was also her daughter's birthplace and she felt very much like the cream she-wolf was intruding. So although she knew she was being kind of a jerk, she remained as she was, with her stare pinned coldly on the other's face and her hackles half-raised. Cerulean's spluttering did little to ease the tension. In fact, it only made it worse.

Spit it out, she groused, glaring across the space the way Wylla always glared at other women. Did she have a single woman in her life whom she didn't shoot vitriol at? It was something competitive, something in her blood, and she hadn't had any sisters growing up to temper that in her. Cerulean did indeed spit it out and when she did, Wylla snorted again and canted her dark ears to her rear. This shithole? No. I have no home. What's it to you?

Not without Tiercel, anyway. Nowhere would ever feel truly like home without her.