Dawnlark Plains darkest hour

There was a prickle along her spine, a feeling of wrong at her sister’s appearance.  But this did not deter her.  Wealda remained still and rigid, her lips peeled back in an aggressive warning that would become action if Masquerade came any closer to the Rise.  Her fear only made this more important.  No wrong could be allowed past her.

Another wolf might have felt concern towards Druid or sympathy towards Masquerade, clearly not herself in this moment.  Wealda held neither.

If Masquerade moved away, she would allow her to depart just as Druid had.  If she came closer, Wealda would have no choice but to attack.