The Bracken Woods She

She knew she could only control herself… although even that was called into question. She couldn’t explain it to herself, much less anyone else. All Masque knew was that something about New Snow’s proestrus had flipped a switch deep inside her, something instinctive, primal and utterly impossible to resist in the heat of the moment.

Redd had literally beaten it out of her yesterday, yet here the ugly feeling was all over again, no weaker for her distance from the trigger. Mixed in with her anguish over losing her mother, her own ethos had become so volatile that she didn’t even recognize herself.

Her lips pursed, then Mulherin spoke. Masque startled at the broken silence. She looked at him sharply and saw concern reflected back at her. She swallowed and glanced away, then shook her head lightly. She knew he cared, yet her emotions were too much of a wildcard. It didn’t help that she kept replaying that moment in her head, seeing him accept Redd without even glancing at Masque first…

No, she said heavily. I’m not myself right now, Mul. I want to be alone. Go home.