Witching Hour

Swamps hadn?t been common in England, where she had been whelped- nor did she and Valkan encounter many as he enlightened her. Few memories of the time he had spent with her were lucid and memories that she could relieve. One of those memories was the vague taste of wolf flesh. The first time she had ate the meat, she hadn?t known what it was until, Valkan took her back to his kill. Then she had been nice and oozed innocence, then.. he destroyed her.

Not that she complained, she loved her life now, but at moments when here lucidity would strike, she would miss her family. The cool autumn air billowed the foul smell of the swamps around her, and for the moment she was completely in her mind. Unconsciously, she had been following the scent of another- her paws doing so out of their own volition rather than as her decision.

The words of the other wolf reached her head, as she pushed through the brush to see her. Thorns ripped into her fur, drawing blood as they assaulted her. The smell of blood turned her head to look at her wound, and she licked at it hungrily, before turning to face the other wolf, blood staining her mouth.
?Insults are simply offenses for a weak mind.? The words would fall whimsically from her mouth as she smiled widely at the wolf before her.