Like an unwinding cable car

Malachi's reasoning deeply grated the afflicted mother and his query pointed out the obvious flaws in her rationality — for there was none. There were no answers or rhyme that could objectify her emotions. Passion fueled the ember and her deep loyalty to all that was Sveijarn and Duskfire. Anything which attempted to revise that vision was nothing less than a slight to the incensed monarch. She cared for Malachi like family — possessive of him, even — but the way he had erred affected her personally and the bottom line had been drawn. Malachi had allowed a young wolf, the same age as her own, into Duskfire after Tuwawi's children had been ripped from her breast and nothing, no matter the rationale, could repent for his judgement.

A quiet lulled over the pair as Malachi's voice waned. For a moment, Tuwawi's face went slack while the cogs turned in her head, partially floored that he dared draw any parallel's between Adlartok and Arabella. To her, it seemed like he couldn't get it — the gravity of his decision — and his scrutiny, though he tried to break the riddle that was Tuwawi, simply made him appear traitorous.

Suddenly and savagely the queen lunged, fire tended anew. Her sinew coiled, stained maw parting as her paws slapped the ground, attempting to snatch Malachi's muzzle betwixt her parted jaw in a display of dominance.