Chiding smile is sent Arwen's way, clearly disapproving of her choice of words. "Only to you, maybe. You know Mother finds me the darker of us. I am not so sweet in her eyes." And her face twitches with pain and hatred for a brief moment, but she stomps down on it, not wanting to show her thick feelings in regards to their mother. Arwen regarded her too highly, Asch didn't want to hurt her by revealing how deeply she could hate any singular person. How deeply she could hate the fae who had birthed them. But she loved her helplessly just as much, and she was weak, knowing she would never be able to stop loving her no matter how much she hated her too. "Soul sister, you are the sugar. I am the mold that grows upon it. You accept me, but others will cast me off from you," she spoke softly, almost sadly. Sincerely. But she smiled indulgently regardless as Arwen began to speak in hushed, awed tones, describing the bunny Asch had not been able to catch view of. So long as it made her happy, she'd listen to every rambling word her twin ever spoke.

Then their paradise fell to pieces around them, Arwen's gasp drawing Asch's attention to the wicked bitch that slew the rabbit before her twin's innocent eyes. Asch's face fell instantly to a fierce snarl, reminiscent of the wolf the stupid cow claimed herself to be, stepping forward and in front of Arwen to shield her. Fierce golden eyes were hot as the molten metal that named their color, pinning onto the doomed bitch like daggers. Arwen's screams only deepened the ravenous look on her face, shoving her backwards with her body, pushing the two of them through the snow. As much as her bravado, her anger, demanded she attack the whelp that dared to upset her twin, she knew she was far from capable of taking on a full-grown warrior. Vengeance stewed in her gaze, promising that one day, when Asch was grown and strong, that the wicked bitch would fall beneath the rain of her hooves for what she'd done to Arwen.

The thud of her sister's body into the snow had Asch leaping to post her legs over her like a hound, head low and crouching over her like a dog faithfully serving its downed master. The crooning of her twin is ignored in favor of keeping her eyes on their current predator, but the twitching of the deceased lupine has her suppressing a shudder. Good Gods, what was Arwen doing? But a bitter side of her sighs. Of course Arwen would get magic... Not she, the protector, the one who needed the magic to keep her foolish twin safe. But she cannot dwell on it, for Arwen's sounds go dead, and she fearfully looks down as the rabbit collapses to see her twin miming it almost perfectly. Had she hair upon her shoulders it would be bristling, hackles raised, as her teeth gnash angrily. Ears are tucked so tight beside her horns it nearly hurts, but anger makes it all seem dull and uninteresting.

"You are a fool, you sick bitch!" she barks, voice like nails and whips slicing the air around her. Tongue, once held politely in Arwen's presence so as to preserve her innocence, is unleashed. "If you hurt her, I will wait a thousand years to kill you! I will rip the flesh from your bones and shove it down your disgusting throat! I will rip every hair from your head and choke your damnable beast with it! I will paint with your blood you bitch!" She is screaming now, plume lashing so quickly it is like a cougar's preparing for a duel to the death. She is still soft like a newborn but her soul is like iron, and she has heard whispers and solemn vows of pain. Innocence has been stripped from her willingly, for it lets her serve her twin fully, and now she uses it to flame the desire for blood in her eyes.

Now where was their mother? Even better, where was her precious Papa and Talbot? She would tear this stupid cow to shreds with Talbot and Papa at her side if she could. Nobody hurt Arwen. Nobody.