Hideaway Strath A Test Of Faith.

Leigh could feel it. She could smell it. The pressure of the girl's organs landing upon the she-wolf's head was nauseating.

The woman sat crouched down against the dirt floor. Legs tucked beneath her stomach, a blank stare overtaking her features as she remained motionless despite the blood clotting in her fur and trickling down her face.

She couldn't see her surroundings clearly, and yet she knew Nyra was there. It was like a dream. You never really see anyone's face but you can somehow feel and identify their presence. Despite having run out of tears by now, her vision was still blurred by the pure terror. But even so, she just knew that the familiar white wolf was nearby, and she was thankful for that.

Leigh wasn't sure if she'd ever quite forgive Nyra, though. Being consumed by the atmosphere, joining in on the fun no matter how terrible is a dangerous thing. And the she-wolf didn't know if that was someone she'd want to stick around. She meant no offence to her friend but, to her, that was real weakness.

And then something changed. The woman had grown tired of filtering her thoughts and words, especially after everything that had occured this day. And these wolves, her pack, didn't deserve such kindness. They deserved to be burned alive by the flames of a raging dragon.

Leigh had never been called a warrior. A fighter. Skilled or even good at what she does. She was called the dragon. Not for her ability to fight. No, she was severely lacking in that area if anything.

Leigh was called the dragon for the uncontrollable ruthlessness buried deep inside like lava boiling in her stomach.

Although shaking and stumbling, she slowly rose to her paws, her eyes pinned to the diseased wolf. Despite an unsteady voice, she spoke confidently and clearly.

"I don't know what sickness has consumed your body. But whatever it is, I don't give a fuck if it kills me."

The she-wolf wasn't concerned if Dorus didn't care for her words. If he didn't listen. She wasn't worried if they didn't even scare him just a little.

She was just tired of being seen as weak.

"There will be a day where you die. I may not have the pleasure of killing you myself but I will be there."

Leigh spoke softly, calmly.

"I will rip the fur from your body, tear skin from muscle until you are drowning in nothing but your own blood. I will pluck rib upon rib from your chest until your heart is exposed and then I'll oh so kindly dispose of it like Nyra here. I'll tear your eyes from your skull, break your bones and spit on your corpse. Everything you've ever fought or stood for will mean nothing, because you will be nothing when I'm finished. There will be no memory of you."

Even if I'm lying and I never get a chance, something terrible will happen to you eventually. And perhaps that's what you want. Perhaps this means absolutely nothing to you.

But if I do get the opportunity, it sure as hell is going to make me feel fucking great.

She simply walked away from the group. Although Leigh remained close by, she removed herself from the bloody ground littered with shredded flesh.

Taking a seat, only a few meters away from Aya's body, she sat quietly and still like a statue.

Now all she was waiting for was Kynareth to return.