Anthemis put paw in front of paw through dense forest brush, his body transformed to its most primal form. Thick, coarse fur bristled against the cold wind. His ear twitched at a noise beyond the thicket. His eyes glowed a shade brighter. 

I can smell you. I can hear you. Why are you here?

He moved forward confidently, the fur on the back of his neck raised. There she was, just beyond his favorite tree. Patchy grey moss hung from a low branch and dangled by her left ear. 

Silver. Like father. 

She turned to face Anthemis, but he was so much bigger than her. Neither knew what to do. They watched one another, waiting for any sign of threat. 

These woods are mine. This tree is mine. What are you doing here? You look like father. You remind me of her. I must-

She sniffed his cheek. His shoulder. Anthemis turned sharply and locked his jaw around her neck. 

Don’t touch me. Don’t touch me. Don’t touch me. This place is mine. You can’t be here, you like father. Scent of her. Don’t touch me. I must destroy you. This place is mine. This world is mine. You won’t stop me pain-bearer. Ruiner. Ice blooded father. 

His bones ached and crackled and transformed. The coarse ground and dense forest brush twisted at his bare feet. Blood dripped from his chin, but he didn’t care. He sat beneath his tree. The tree in the center of the wild grove. The grove where he was born.