Witch's Marsh vanity

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Ash Paw was not one that usually fought, but her children's lives were at stake. The careful life she was cultivating them for. Her fury at Ingram was absolutely paramount, but her fury at his former nightwife, that was something that the gods should tremble at. And the fact that the shebitch was now near her territory, near the man who pledged himself to her. And she was begging like the whore she was. Oh Ash Paw had enough. The she wolf had only ever seen her when she was complacent and friendly and in heat. She'd never seen her with such fury like the valkiries she would ride.

Because there was hatred in her eyes and poison in her thoughts when she left the pack lands. It wasn't even that she had lain with him. She herself had pups with a different man. The thing was that she held him on like a puppet on a string and that drove Ash Paw to absolute hatred. Ingram could hate her for this. He could leave her, but the simple fact was he wasn't strong enough to stand up to his ex wife, but Ash paw was.

Her children were almost weaned. So much of her smaller stature had returned. She still carried some of the weight from birth and the sweet scent of limited milk, but she could fight with the best of them she supposed even now. And if it got to bad, she'd leave.

Upon the marshes she traveled, staying clear of the poisons and the toxins that lay upon the mire. Blue eyes alight with flames and then she saw her and a hiss left her lips.

So you get used like a whore and then continue to beg like a wretch for the leavings of a man who is already claimed. He left you honey, just because he f***ed you doesn't mean you get to keep him.

She lifted her head with haughty gaze. Her tail lashing behind her, growls in her throat. Leave these places. Or I will kill you. There was no emotion in her words. It was intoned and flat. A promise not a threat. If she couldn't kill her, she's sure do her damndest to take some of her with her.