How has this happened?

The battle between the vampires and the Tempests was so recent in all of their minds, so when exactly was it that they had grown so soft? When had they stopped looking over their shoulder? When had they grown so complacent? Zawyne knew better… She knew better than to be outside of a safe zone at night. Yes, Adara had called her, but Zawyne should have insisted on meeting within the packlands of Dierne Hrof instead of outside of them. It had been a foolish mistake, arrogant almost, and it had forced Adara into yet another deadly fight with the bloodsuckers. Where the king vampire had bit her was still open - his bite had not been a clean one, but rather a tear that had left long slits in her neck. The warmth of her crimson life blood flowed down her neck and onto her paws, painting them in a vibrant red. But upon her face there was not a single fleck of blood, but instead a terrified mask of obscene horror, along with two trails marked by her saltine tears streaming down her face freely as she sobbed, running for her life. She screamed as she went, screaming for help. But it was not her life that she was worried about, but rather that of Adara. The tempest was fighting the vampire in order to give Zawyne a chance to escape. But even in a one on one match, there was no guarantee as to who would win. And so Zawyne did not care if she drew the vampire back onto her trail, not if it would get the vampire off of Adara. And perhaps… Just perhaps… It could draw more tempests to her. Tempests to help Adara win and survive. She barreled through the woods, hoping that she would get to Dierne Hrof time… But were no guarantees anymore.

And if Dara fell, slain by the beast, it was going to be all her fault.

⁂Here^I_{am a}Commoner⁂Teen⁂