Bramblepoint my sweet torment

It was all a blur. Cries rang out, voices pounded in her ears. Fur went flying. And in the hold of her own jaws, blood pooled. When Anathema ripped away, a chunk of her skin and fur was left behind. She was wounded. Marked for her crime.

Bronte spat out the tuft of fur and skin, letting it land at her paws. The huge dark adult who had burst in only earned a flick of her ear. She didn't know him, or the pale Maggak. As Acrux fell to the ground, cowering and in tears, her face softened. Her ears fell, regretfully. 

She did not crowd him. Instead, bristling again, she glared off in the direction her supposed friend bolted. Moonspear and Acrux's parents had to know. He had to be tended to. 

"I'm sorry." She muttered numbly. "I don't know what got into her." She turned her eyes up on the Moon wolves, to add explanation. "She is a pack mate of mine in Brecheliant." Her tone said that she knew the Moon packs and hers were close. Bronte didn't want their peace to be broken because of the bullying that took place here today. "I'll make sure that the adults hear about this. And that she..." She pointed to where Anathema had ran off. "Is held accountable."