Foggy Bottom Way ratero

His attention to the wound—fear locked in his chest—he was blindsided by the savagery of her attack. A shrieking voice—piercing his ears with a ring and for a moment he did not feel the pain that soon blossomed from the score of fangs that sliced across his eye and cheek—toward his temple. Wren’s voice seemed distant—a frowning glance revealed her bared fangs to him—but his focus was on Silver as she danced away his blood on her muzzle, to the arms of a stranger.

He remained stunned, blinking the blood from an eye as it began to drip down from the wound.

"you have done enough!’

He stared at her—incredulous, his own lips pulling back to a silent snarl as the stranger moved forward—a howl to what he assumed was for her comrades.

What had he done to deserve this mistrust? What the hell had happened to her?

“Silver,” he began, his voice a rasp. Wren’s words were hollow to him, and he blinked at her in disbelief—she threatened the woman, accepting that Silvertongue was just going to run off with a complete stranger—one who spoke that her injury would be grave.

“Silvertongue, you can’t be considering going alone with some stranger somewhere.” Disbelief—a final plea—and a tension that roiled from him—eyes straying to their surroundings, waiting with a finality of reinforcements—

—for yet another fight.