Out with the old

“You?” Kite asked, standing up and staring her nephew down. How did that asshole end up with the pack? Everything that spoiled wolf ever wanted was handed to him on a silver platter, while she scrapped and fought for the scraps. Enough was enough. He didn't deserve the honour given to him. She would never follow a wolf she despised so much. “I challenge you for Warlord!” She declared, her voice ringing through the space between them. As the echo of her voice faded, she wasn't sure what expression was on the face of the Warlord’s favourite brat, but she had a terrible feeling it was pity.

Her anger only grew, a living poisonous snake in her belly. She stepped up, passing through the wolves. Refusing to look at them, ignoring their questions and the judgement in their eyes. They'd be hers soon enough. A slave army to do her bidding.

She didn't give Basilisk any time to protest further, the moment she reached him she attacked. Lunging at his colossal paws as she extended her claws. She was going for blood. If she could maim him before this fight was over, she would see it as a personal victory.


"Speech"