Dragoncrest Cliffs I heard we're friends

Of course she had to go after them. Of course she had to feel the ground harden as Sapphique's border falls behind her, and of course her lips had to curl back in a stern show of ivory teeth; to the boy, to the children.
Home. Now. her voice thunders in a depth it perhaps never had before; no more games. Her pace picks up in speed, a swift bow of thin, short legs; a black widow amid the thick shrubbery of the tangle.
If not stopped short, her teeth would clip in a gentle warning first to Astera, and then to Miette; and if she were lucky, she would form a guardrail with her lithe figure in between the boy and her girls. He's leaving. Let him go. We don't do this.