Lone Star Mountain she dreamed of paradise

The pitsiark stilled, sensing the presence of another at her back - an instinct only the damaged and defeated have gained - before the clacking of his steps reached her perked auds. 

Turning, she started with a gasp at the golden orbs that glinted from within the shadows. The dome of her frosted crown smashed against the shelter of stone, vision blurring as she watched in stricken horror as the beastly silhouette materialised before her eyes. 

Drawn tightly against the inadequate coverage of the cave's wall, Fen's form bunched with adrenaline and her limbs shook with terror. Possibilities whirled through the storm of her mind's hurricane eye, imagining the worst. 

Lips trembling, fighting back the vicious snarl of a cornered creature, she managed to locate her voice. 

"Who are you? What do you want?" She barked, eyes ablaze, without yet realizing she'd spoken in her mother's tongue.