They abandoned her.
Even worse, they abandoned their child. Yseulte felt the fury swelling in the back of her throat, tasting bitter on her tongue. She couldn't understand why. Yseulte was no mother—she had no offspring of her own, and cared for very little in life (other than her own well-being), but this was different. Zjarri had never abandoned her—never. Even when he could have, even when Yseulte sometimes wished he would, he hadn't. And so it made sense that Yseulte could not wrap her mind around this simple concept—this concept that would soon change both her life and the leopard cub's.
If they even survived, that is.
Yseulte, strangely enough, didn't feel fear when the wolves crept from the twining shadows of the Deep Forest. There was very little in life that could phase Yseulte, for she accepted things as they were and didn't question anything. However, it was a rather foreign feeling to know she was in mortal danger, to grasp that she could very well die. It was pleasant, in a bizarre sort of way. The adrenaline coursed through her veins as the wolves circled round her with white flashing teeth. Her muscles stretched taunt beneath her skin that was damp and steaming in the cold air with a thin sheet of perspiration. Her eyes were incredibly bright in the night, and she grinned a very wolfish grin, imitating the snide expression on these jewel-eyed creatures.
But ultimately, Yseulte was not a fighter and she never had been. All her life, she relied on her silver tongue and sharp wits to tip-toe her way out of sticky situations. And this was an especially sticky situation indeed—quicksand, to be more exact.
And she was sinking fast.
There were more in the distance—their howls oozing through the forest like an open wound. Let them come, she thinks, and is about to throw herself into a fight she would surely lose, when a familiar growl met her ears. Osiris. Osiris and company, to be more specific. Comadre hovered above him, little more than a black wraith in the night, and wolves swarmed behind him, eager to do his bidding, for they loved him dearly. She could see it in the loyal glitter of their eyes, the way they scrambled and wrestled to be near him. They nearly had the upper hand now--what with the wild hybrid, a dragon, and a loyal army of wolves at her back. If the enemy was smart and wished to avoid being gutted like a fish with her horn, torn to bits by Osiris, and roasted into oblivion by dragon's breath, then they would comply.
Those dangerous golden eyes of his met hers and all she could offer to him in that fleeting moment was a small smile of gratitude.
"Well, you heard the boss. I'm afraid we'll have to reschedule for another night. As you can see, I'm rather booked," Yseulte said smoothly to the alpha wolf. Her gaze sharpened into something flinty and feral, and her eyes glittered like cold sapphires. "Now, the cub, if you please."
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in places deep where dark things sleep, questing
