Barrow Fields fire and life incarnate

Thuringwethil keeps her distance from the group, watching idly from the corner of her eyes as another unknown wolf begins to go about their business. There’s no acknowledgement they exist outside the other two. It does please her when Rosalyn begins to back pedal but she’d made a foolish mistake to return so soon after she had her ass handed to her. From the distance she stands, she can’t pull her wounds into focus to see what she left her with.

She only gets a glance from the other wolf but her expression doesn’t change. Her posture remains tight, elevated—this is her land—but Caiaphas seems far more interested in Rosalyn.

Hm.

As the sound’s queen seemingly forgets her, Thuringwethil doesn’t advance. Half a football field stands between her and the others and even when Caiaphas charges after the auburn wolf, Thuringwethil doesn’t even flinch. It would be thrilling to chase her back out but her lack of knowledge of her other enemy keeps her at bay. Perhaps if she’d known Rosalyn and the other were at odds with one another, she may not have been so rough with her, but how would she have known?

Either way, both are enemies now. She’s shred whatever she had left with the traitor and grows restless standing there as their own scuffle begins and she stands idly by, watching.