[i]It's not your territory. It's theirs.[/i] Easy enough to say, right? But not for Ember. Not for Ember, steeped in the ways of Ceron. Not for Ember, who knows that the pack's territory is whatever the pack may claim. [i]It's their planet, not yours.[/i] No, the planet is already marked.

Her mind goes in different directions, then.

"Where is the honor and glory in making an enemy disappear?" She bares her teeth, gestures wide with the Shield. "Where are your trophies, Alpha? This is a [i]degenerate[/i] weapon. Bring my pack back so that we can fight for this planet properly." Not free this planet; that would be alarming enough to justify leaving the Silver Divers and Mosaic wherever they have gone. "Clear your half-wolves from the board and come fight like women! Bring out your spears, your swords, your cords, your maces! Winner takes all, loser offers concession: [i]that[/i] is the way of Ceron! Do it or I will break your [i]toys[/i] and we will fight like savages, teeth on necks, to dissolution."

It is mostly a bluff. It is a deliberate choice to channel the howling of a hundred honorable predecessors into outrage. She risks being lost in it (as she always is). There is no Mosaic here to talk her down. Nothing but the groaning of the injured and the echo of her voice in the empty space.