Hideaway Strath IV

Ooh, what was this?

Ambrosia arrived just in time to watch as the chaos broke free. She had missed all of the juicy details regarding what exactly was going on, but it was clear some sort of drama was brewing. As her orange eyes searched the scene, the woman realized she had absolutely no clue who half of the wolves involved where. They mostly consisted of white or black pelts, which was such a great form of identification.

For now she stood back, refusing to become involved in the mess. The she-wolf had already been through enough trouble within the past few weeks, so there was no reason to add shit on top of more shit. Then she'd just end up with a shit pile. A pile of shit. Aka, she'd end up with a Kynareth.

But that didn't stop her from shooting some snarky comments into the mix. Unlike Nyra, Ambrosia had nothing to lose. No position, no relationships. And she knew for a fact that Kynareth wouldn't dare threaten her life.

It truly was an entertaining sight however. Three, four, five, however many wolves drooling over the tiger. If only these simps knew what a real man looked like. Oh, what Ambrosia would give to see them chase after her dead husband only to cry at the realization that he was taken. Too bad he was fucking dead. They can thank Sasha for that.

"Oh get a room you four. Clearly Donnie boy here has a type. His type being, anything that breathes."

The woman wasn't usually this sarcastic and playful, but the opportunity was way too good to pass up. And yet Ambrosia still felt a hint of self hatred. It was clear that Kynareth had a thing for warm-colored eyes. Gosh, if only she had those fucking green eyes she had always wanted. Thanks, Dad. Love the genes.