You own me like whispers in poetry

He let her go, watching as she pulled back from his touch and sunk to the earth. “It’s not enough to defeat your opponent, you need control, Ignita. Otherwise you are just as dangerous as whatever is threatening your family.” He said, gentling his voice as he sank to the earth beside her.

He reached for her again, gently gripping her in his as he began to clean the blood from her pearly coat with his tongue. There was a fire in his Ignita, ready to burn when unleashed. If she didn’t figure out how to control it, it would burn friend as easily as it burned foe. “Have you never hunted before?” Wolves usually learned to deal with blood a lot younger than Ignita.