Otter Creek striking a pose, smiling in photos without any reason with people that ill never know

‘Why are you so angry?’
 
“Fuck you.” Daighre snarled, abruptly, the hair along his shoulders and neck standing on edge as he launched himself to his feet on stiff legs. He was sick and fed up with her fucking bullshit. He was sick and fed up with everyone’s fucking bullshit. First his fucking hag of a mother decided to run him out the pack while his dad did fuck all to defend him. Then he met countless psycho after psycho, from the red-haired bitch he met in the woods to the fat-ass he met in the mountains, and now, her.
 
The wolf that would sooner let him drown if he didn’t promise her his fucking soul.
 
And she wanted to know why he was so fucking angry?
 
He snarled and stepped forward, his hackles bristling, and his tail raised high in the air behind him, his ears pinned back against his head and his teeth on display.
 
“Fuck you.” He repeated, at a characteristic loss for words. “Fuck you and your fucking bullshit.”
 
“I almost fucking drown—” Not that he needed her fucking help. Not when he was quickly realizing that he should’ve just drowned rather than accepting her fucking help.
 
“And your crazy fucking ass, instead of fucking helping me, like any normal fucking person would, instead goes on and on about how I have to promise to do as you say and follow you wherever you go—”
 
What the fuck was he? Property?
 
“And you wanna ask why I’m so fucking angry?”
 
The fuse was lit. The match was struck. And Daighre was beyond ready for whatever happened next.