Tigerlily

She has faced monsters like this one before, only last time, it was a pale wraith of a stallion who’d taunted and tormented her. This one was a shadowy, skulking creature, but the darkness in him was just the same. Tigerlily was older now, wiser, and stronger for all the trials she had overcome. Björn had helped her see that, and even though her blood ran cold with terror at the sound of the smoky black brute’s growls, she did not lose sight of herself. As a young mare, she had fled in fear, only to be run down and overcome. Never again. Never again. This was her home, and she would not run from it.

Ears laced back in response to the sneering stallion, and Tigerlily hissed a response. "Whatever you may have been to Björn in the past, whoever Björn may have been… I believe he’s changed for the better, and he has no need for a ‘friend’ of your ilk." Her blue eyes were icy cold, and narrowed in anger. "So I say again, leave now, or you’ll regret it."

At his mocking words and devious request, Tigerlily sharply shook her head, snorting and pushing her own muzzle forward, almost mirroring his stature, snapping her teeth at the empty air in warning. "No," she snarled, the growing anger in her welling to the very surface of her skin. Though her grullo bear king had not gone into detail about his past beyond the effects of his father’s breakdown and passing had had on him, she sensed that he had gone through other things, and if the prickle of trepidation that ran the length of her spine was anything to go by… This brute was clearly a nasty piece of work, and Tigerlily would do all she could to spare Björn having to suffer his presence.

"Anything you wish me to convey to him would only tempt or torment him, and I will never knowingly speak hurtful words to him again, especially not ones from you." The love she felt for Björn, the way she felt loved by him, had changed everything for her. It had given her something to fight for, made her realise that she was not the worthless creature she’d come to believe herself to be. And the babe in her belly – the child of a coward – filled her heart with courage. So, as she lunged for the smoky black stallion, a shrill cry of rage piercing the air, she fought for more than just herself. "Get out!" The words were a roar as she snaked her white muzzle towards the intruder, snapping and seeking to draw blood.

the lion-hearted tigress of the ridge