Luneshale Pass perla

today she had not been good. today she had been dragged. her upper arms were bruised by his teeth, her scruff raw and punctured in at least one place. she had fought juárez, cursed him, sent her voice howling into the sky. once. once. another call. another presence. a dark figure as brutally built as her captor filled her eyes, and fear in turn filled her belly. "trajiste un esclavo," she hissed all the same, eyes flashing with unbroken spirit which lived still even in the depths of her. teeth glinted toward this brother now, head snapping around on a thinned neck.