Silvertip Mountain loss of breath

while avicus warred within herself against the desire to shed blood, asperas waged a war quite different, for all its similarities. she had not anticipated the immediate regret of teeth meeting flesh, no matter the lesson taught to her by the rabbit, by her father.
merrick.
she had not anticipated the ruddy stranger's retreat, either, and knew in an instant that it must be for the sake of the bruin-witch. the unchild did not wait for the howl to confirm it, but that renewed her rage all the same. all of it — the shame and hurt, the jealousy and indignation — became one, a burning mass lodged in her throat and bleeding fire down into her chest. all of it, she turned outward, and poured like hot oil against the flesh of the one who had given such offense.

until the one who had sired her came, with scathing words to snuff the flame of her own ire. family, he proclaimed, and asperas felt for the first time the sting of betrayal.
she could not have him. and yet, she did.
momentarily stunned from her violent path, the voidsent was faced with a choice: flee in shame of failure, or commit every ounce of herself, and forge ahead, and chastisement be damned.

always, she chose the path of pride.
asperas did not allow more than a moment's reprieve, pushing past the bulwark merrick had made of himself however she might in order to press yet another attack, as vicious as the last, with no intention of relenting.

she could not have him.

i'm so sorry lmaooo