Qeya River a dollar for your future... a dollar for your fate.

Freak indeed. Her coat wasn't the only unusual thing about Isra. The pup springing from the brush didn't faze her. She only ever feared Him. The spectre that haunted her mind and steadily chipped away at her sanity did not normally leap from bushes. However, the sound the youngling created was rightly unpleasant.

Isra did not shy away from the older woman's teeth, reveling in her anger. She took note of how the pup and adult shared the same appearance, evidently kin. 

She turned her attention to the ash-colored youth. "Y'see, He's always watching. Always there. Never talkin'. Never." Her voice was calm, and she spoke in an informative tone.

Who the hell are you? Who was Isra, but the one who stared Him right through His empty, voided eyes. The one who ran. The one who was always a step ahead. Always one step. Just one. She grinned. "Why, I'm the one who got away..."