They Call Me Spitfire

He looked from her, to the dead creature she had stalked across the line. She said nothing, but the understanding between the two was rich enough that she didn’t have to. She was following their earlier lesson, that it was okay she had killed the chicken because it suffered. “No, Aslatiel” he said, voice angry, and rough with bitterness. No endearment fell from his lips “This side of the border is mine ” he pointed to the Armada, "and this side is not. On this side, I can not protect you if I am not here. I believe you will be strong and fierce and dangerous, but right now, you are not.” He knew she saw herself as a killer, and perhaps he had let her think she was invincible, raising her up to be her best as he had. To demonstrate he reached over, grabbing her roughly in his teeth and yanking her off the ground. Not enough to hurt her, but it would likely shake her a little.

He held her in his teeth for a moment, and then released her, letting her thud a small distance to the ground. Again, not enough to hurt her, but enough for her to understand how defenseless she was. “You will see the world for what it is, and not what you want it to be.” he snarled, mouth now free of her fur. “You are two months old, and that means that right now, every wolf is bigger than you. You will see this, and accept it. You will not put your siblings or this pack in danger for a fantasy in your head, am I understood?” he growled, his anger getting the best of him. Dammit, he had trusted her. “If the choice was that rabbit, or your family, are you telling me you would pick the rabbit?”