Herbalists' Cache homecoming

sharp, raking, lancing pain. the threat of disembowelment if not for the thick flesh and hide protecting his underbelly from the dull of her back claws. he shouts in response, not from pain but annoyance. she is fucking annoying! this is fucking annoying! unnecessary! he slams his paws upon her, into her shoulders, upon her chest.

pushing her further into the snow, the ice, like a hammer driving a nail into the wall. red, crimson eyes blazing with fury. and now he sees it. rage like hers—it was his own, mirrored back at him in the wild flash of her eyes, in the raw betrayal lacing her voice. and it should not have mattered. should not have fucking mattered.

fuck the gods for making his heart soft enough to bleed for her. there is temptation to lower his head to hers but he is smart enough to know she would take the chance to press teeth into the flesh of his face. it was scarred, mangled, enough already. so he snarls, snapping his teeth, as he says: what does a fucking wildling know of duty?!

a scoff, sharp, bitter. she demands of him. of faust. he laughs, laughs in her fucking face, blackened lips trembling with the weight of his fury. if i have no duty to my family, and then comes dramatic pause before an inhale of breath, then what makes you think i know where he is? she thrashes, snarls, spits her fury at him, and then—

@Gjalla