Swiftcurrent Creek roll the dice

When she woke up that morning, the Arctic wolf extracted herself from the cluster of snoozing bodies that made up the Paarzi & Pups household, and stepped out into the wintry weather.

Scimitar was really putting his back into the silent and stoic thing, and Bazi was quite pissed off about it. They had barely spoken since her return, and now that the initial havoc of the early weeks as a step-parent were over, she had more time to dedicate to their 'situation', or whatever it was.

It wasn't just that he didn't seem to like her any more - the gloomy leader didn't seem particularly thrilled about his life in general. He was an Alpha of a large pack (one of the largest, unbeknownst to them all), backed by loyal family and friends, with no immediately obvious threats to their safety. Shadow knew full well that any attack he planned on the Creek would put his children in danger, and seemed resigned to the fact that Paarthurnax had chosen her Swiftcurrent. Things were good. Really good, and yet Scimitar had never looked more tortured.

The whole thing rubbed Bazi the wrong way. She was angry, envious, frustrated - confused, most of all. What did she want? Sometimes, when she spotted him going about his daily business in solitude, she wanted to cut his throat - two seconds later, she felt an overwhelming desire to jump him. It was this roller-coaster of emotions that she battled against now, striding moodily in the direction of The Guardians.