Northstar Vale to kick around as a toy

leave, they want her to leave. again, they want her gone. something fractures further; she will not speak her name again. her jaw unhinges, widens, cords of saliva strung from fang to fang. somewhere, a piece of the once wolf yearns to speak, to speak out against being labeled a thing, something devoid of all the things that make her individual. but she is slipping away far too fast for that. 

she charges, acting mostly on instinct and a surging, never-ending well of strength, hate. it is the bigger one she seeks to wrap her jaws around, though the smaller female has managed to draw the most of her ire. but the male remains in the way, and so her fangs hunt for him.