Cirrus did hope for all these things, and yet she was rewarded with death as her reply.
The mare crinkled her nose at his response, disgust and pity transforming upon her façade as she snorted in rough rejection of his words.
"Death? Death? You've lived this long and all you want now is death?" The mare was shaking from rage, for she felt that she had earned the right to decide when suicide was an appropriate answer to all life's problems, not this decrepit old wolf. She didn't care that she was probably wrong, that the wolf had every right to his feelings and emotions - but Cirrus was ever a stormy maiden, subject to continue on once the first raindrop of rage and despair fell.
"You want death?" Cirrus boomed the question at him, shouting for all her lungs would allow in the echoey, damp cave. Abruptly, she grabbed her spear and held its point to the wolf. "Come get it," she growled around the wooden shaft in her mouth, flaring her wings and pawing her left foreleg at the stony ground, trying to incite the last bit of fight, of life out of this dead wolf.
@Ranjiri
please do not feel pressured into mirroring the length of any of my posts
I write what I feel at the time
and hope everyone else does the same c: