Herbalists' Cache homecoming

i was never yours to keep. 

rage grips her, coursing through her veins like molten lava. had her friendship meant nothing? had all the time they spent together—including Faust—mean fucking nothing? perhaps she was a fool, then, to believe she had a true friend in him. 

"you left without a goodbye. i got nothing—nothing! not from you or from your fucking cousin." she snaps, bites, spews. his teeth finding her scruff was nothing but a bees sting, not with her ire masking the pain and her senses. 

she fought, even as she was thrown to the ground. overpowered by the mountain he'd become, his heft keeping her pinned. keeping her caged, contained. she thrashed and kicked and clawed. her powerful hind legs finding his stomach, where she dug ivory claws into his fur and skin. 

if she couldn't tear the windpipe from his throat, she'd claw the guts from his stomach. 

ancestral duties. "bullshit!" she roared. pupils pin-pointed with rage, her jaws snapping viciously. "you have no duty, no loyalty. not to friends, not to your family!"

he wished to kill her? she'd fucking curse him from the heavens. she would find a way for her ire to live despite her fall. 

her heart ached. she was no longer a child—such easy days spent alongside blackfell and faust had been ripped away from her—but there was a small, tiny part it inside of her. a part that only wanted her friend back; the part that made her so angry, simply because she couldn't get it to go away. 

"where is he?" she snarled. "where?!"