Beneath the storm

Morganna had never been a patient wolf. She had rarely been thoughtful of conniving. So when the fox clicked its teeth, she stomped after it, and when the man stepped between her and her raven, she didn't bother with words. Instead, she rolled her shoulders forward, crystals glistening about her neck, quills flaring over her hips and tail. Her ears pinned against her skull and lips pulled back, barely offering a threat before she lunged toward his shoulder.

Morganna Archer was not here to fuck spiders, and with her companions the only family she had left to call her own, she'd be damned if she let the fire-marked man bring harm to them while she still had air in her lungs.

"speech"