Herbalists' Cache cen

dark fang hears her speak. her words slide like ice, clean and cold and meant to cut. his eyes do not blink. they stare, wide and sharp, the blood-pool red of them burning in their sockets.
she says monsters.
he does not step away from the side of sun eater, where he belongs; but twice, fur bristling, his breath thick and animal in the cold air. a snarl trembles at his jaw but does not yet break loose.
“monster?” he snorts. the sound is violent and wet. “you speak of blood but you don't bleed for us. don't bleed for chieftain.” he looks to ishmira, then other shore. a wild glance. “you trust them. they are not blood. not lanzadoii!”
he steps back, breath harsh, shoulders twitching with rage barely leashed.
“you defy,” he says again, quieter this time. to no one. to everyone. it is not his place to act and this is seen in the way he does not move from the side of his brother and chieftain. head lowering as glimmering pools of blood red slide between the scent. first upon morwenna, then upon black hawk, who seethes and glints teeth at them.
if she wished to come to blows, he would headily meet her. and this one is the worst of all, dark fang provokes, traitor to bloodkin.
he watches his brother's wife as she seeks to empower herself over him once more in this act of derision. telling him no—ordering those not permitted to carry. his eyes flash then to sun eater. dark fang knows what he would do! she sought to embarrass sun eater. to make him appear small before his hunters.
dark fang thinks that if his brother does not defend his pride, then dark fang must. he watches greedily.