Noctisardor Bypass i am blood and blood and replay

morwenna advanced the moment he tore free—
one step, then another, each one a queen reclaiming the ground beneath her son’s trembling paws. when he spat his venom, she struck.

the back of her paw cracked across his muzzle, sharp and royal as any blade.

and what remains of your father, boy? her voice thundered low, cold, unshakable.

she stalked him as he backed away, her fury a living thing in the snow.

nothing.

her snarl split the air—raw, righteous, heartbroken.

nothing! he has left you nothing! no crown, no clan, no truth worth carrying.

her chest heaved, but her voice sharpened to a lethal, queenly bite as she stepped into his space, forcing him to feel the weight of her presence.

but i am here.

her paw hit the ground between them, hard enough to send snow spiraling.

me. another step, eyes burning into his. i am the one who remains.

his insults slid off her like arrows against dragonscale—until the last one.

the vile word. the stain of a man she had never chosen. morwenna froze.

then her fury changed shape— from explosive to devastating. a winter storm collapsing inward.

she lowered her head until her muzzle nearly touched his, her breath trembling with wrath and grief braided tight.

you dare speak to me of betrayal, she whispered, brittle as ice cracking under weight, when your father stole you from my breast before you had even opened your eyes?

her stare did not waver.

you dare name a muradoii as your mother? a scoff—not mocking, but wounded. then tell me, boy—where is she now? who stands before you? who bleeds for you?

her voice thickened, nearly breaking—but not bending.

i have crossed death itself to stand here. and you look at me and see only the lies a coward fed you.

her jaws clenched, the fury trembling through her shoulders.

your father feared me. of what i could've become. a beat. that is why he took you.

she inhaled sharply, fighting the ache in her throat.

and you— her voice cracked open, soft and feral—

you are so much mine that even now you do not raise a paw against me.

the truth of it shone in his eyes. and she delivered the final blow softly:

your rage is my blood speaking, c’ed’e. not his.