Starglow Basin i really tried to stay cool

the memory of blood and war was still fresh here. she could smell it—hovering over sangre's grievous wounds, packing them, trying desperately to heal the woman falling apart before her very eyes.

and she knew that more would come, because soto and his ilk were inherently violent men.

violent men—like her. . ."father." and perhaps her true sire, as well. 

she keeps soto's pace, tongue lolling, silvery fur rippling like fish scales in the glittering desert sun. once they reached their destination, she would turn to the man, brows lifted in silent question.

what next?