Noctisardor Bypass p[r]imavaera

Let the record show that Wylla, who gave exactly zero shits about Laurel and would offer her up on a silver platter if it meant saving her own hide or Mahler's or Phaedra's, actually turned up to defend Rivenwood that day.

It was not for Laurel's sake. She didn't even know the woman and didn't care about her in the slightest. It was for her home, a home she meant to make for her family both present and future. It was for Mahler, who had done nothing to deserve his sanctuary being invaded by crowing hooligans. It was for her daughter, that she might not run afoul of these pathetic mongrels.

While sounds of fighting began erupting in the tree, Wylla dove through the undergrowth and found herself face-to-face with two slinking no gooders. She only had a split second to assess them or she might have found something familiar in each of those faces — Stryx because they had met before on bad terms and Val because of his ancestry.

All she had time for was a quick flicker of her eye between the two, enough to discount the younger wolf as less of a threat, possibly even a hindrance to his comrade, before flinging herself with snapping jaws at Stryx.