Hideaway Strath my name means meadow but i'm no flower

at last, whilst the pair were rattling off their long, truly heartfelt speeches to each other, Sasha managed to contain herself again.
watching again. listening to the tail end of their words. ah, the packs they watched suffer at the hands of his followers.

"it was fun though, don't you admit, love?" she'd risen and drifted to the side of her brindle counterpart. mismatched eyes now fixated on the little dragon.
"i remember one pack that lived by some sand coated lands where they all chose to die. even the little ones trying to fight too. that wasn't his order, of course," she gestured to Kynareth, "but it was needed at the time. we weren't about to harbour the strays now, were we?" a wickedly simple smile crossed her face as she pulled away from Kynareth. the two were so different. where he had sympathy, she raged. where he had emotions, she lacked.

"i remember this one wolf with these dazzling blue eyes and such a dark, sooty coat. protecting his matching little girl from our hunters. from me." a pause, to see how deeply she was taking the tale of this butchering, "that little girl had the sweetest blood, y'know."

a soft breath passed her lips that had enough emotion in it to be called a 'huff of a laugh'.