Sabine did fling the door open and disappeared with echoing footfalls, leaving the door open. She sprinted through the streets, at first in simple fear, but then with difficult, spasming breaths. As she ran, she felt wet pins down her cheeks and on her shoulders as her vision began to blur. She wiped away the tears, and still they came, with stifled sobs. Eventually, a jutting flagstone made her stumble. She had only scraped her knee but it put her over the edge.

While trying to stand up, crying into the street, she transformed into a werewolf without her full control. Her beast form had grown over the years to be just as imposing as most of the rest of her pack. No longer was she quite as agile and lightweight. Fortunately for any onlookers, Sabine had just enough control to navigate safely -- albeit rapidly and fiercely -- to the abode of the nearest member of her pack. It happened to be Lorag this time.

She showed herself with flat ears, her tail between her legs, and sounding soft whimpers. She did not try to speak, even if she was capable of it at the time. She merely pressed her head into Lorag's chest, sat in place, and continued to whimper and whine.

[hr]
Fendros sighed and looked up. At least Ahnasha was being patient with him. "Maybe that is the issue. Knowing what constitutes an enemy." He brought his eyes on Ahnasha and conceded. "Look, I think we are talking past each other. I don't know how to say this differently right now. But, for now, if you are willing to agree like you say, we could leave it there. I might suggest mercy every now and then, so if I do, and it's against your wishes, know that I'm not trying to put you down, okay?" Fendros offered a wider smile and put some humour on his voice. "It's just my thick skull. That, or I'm trying to beat your score when we spring ambushes."