He had gone away, his scent fading away from the river haunt, and Mahr had found a new purpose in her fury. With each passing day images flashed in her mind. Images of his bright body pressed up against a svelte feminine figure with a nameless face and constantly shifting colors. Even when she slumbered these thoughts came to her mind and she would jolt awake with a snarl, her pearly white teeth flashing in the morning sunshine, her two toned eyes gleaming with a hatred that was all it's own. Would she have a stigma in her life of forever being the imprint he left? The imprint that he had found wanting even though the moments they had shared had been electrifying, the desire between them instantaneous. She hated it, the idea that he had forsaken her, the idea she couldn't hunt down `them down and squeeze the life from their throats.

Today she meandered into the fields, the tall strands of tan and green grass cloaking most of her ebony body as she stalks. Each step is a slam into the ground, each moment her mind fracturing in fury as she thinks these things over and over and over. Why? Where the fuck was he? She would strangle the female he was with and then she would strangle him. She would paint his pretty figure with his own blood and then, finally, when he begged for her mercy, she would grant it to him and maybe she would forgive him for this.

Still, Mahr is in a tizzy. She has never been particularly stable. Her sister knew that before and without her sister's calmness to temper the fire in her soul Nachtmahr was being burned alive. Each rational thought was twisted and convoluted into something unrecognizable.

Maybe that is why the moment her silver and blue eye falls upon the head of Neveah she clocks out. Clocks out of reality as the storm of images barrage her; the black female pressed against her snowy imprint, those green eyes sharing his own gaze in desire and passion. She cannot see the puppy that trails beside the mother. She does not hear the words because her ears are pressed to her skull and she drops it down so that the female might not spy her as she stalks ever closer, lips peeling upward with each step and anger dominating everything.

Before her she knows stands the female even if the thick grasses obscure her. And quite suddenly Mahr is given to leap, her long legs sending her sailing right through the grass and at her opponent with a vicious snarl erupting from her tapered maw, a crazed look in her eyes. If all things work out she will either knock Neveah over and go for the upper portion of her neck, tearing at whatever she can get into. Bite and jerk and tear, who cares if she gets bit in return? As long as she can taste the blood of this jezebel who stole her imprint.