I found myself on my knees looking down at the smooth onyx floor; I felt the rough design under my feet but could not discern what exactly it was.
The wolf on the other hand felt that this weaker side truly wanted them dead. Was this weaker side muddled?
'if I could kill you and still live, I would have bitten off your head, survival! You muddled side! Survival!' the wolf roared the last spittle flying on my downcast head.
Her body shivered, while her thoughts rampage, truly she was muddled. She had not gotten her way, but who says that she must care for this prince?
Who says that she must allow him to do to her as he wished?
She could accept for the sake of that mother just to survive.
The wolf side is right, she must survive.
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