Word Count :: 413 Heeeeeeeeerp. I should not have posted as Eris the first time, HERPAHERP. :| Powerplayed Nani a bit; James, PM if not okay.
Alsooo, I was slow enough that dictionary.com changed the WoTD on me during this post, so there are two. XD Only the latter is counted, though. 
Pandemic's warm presence against her body only served to strengthen the coal-hued woman's resolve. These were children made strong by Larkspur's blood, by whatever legacy she carried along with her from the long-dead man who she might have called father. Filtered through herself and Larkspur, the coyote taint was lessened. It might have been too late for her, born into Inferni and half coyote in her head (even if her blood was only a quarter), but it was not too late for these children. They could still be saved, and they would, if it cost her everything. The hybrid did not have to ask if Larkspur felt the same; the feeling resonated from him rather plainly. Whether or not they loved one another or even cared for another was absolutely irrelevant -- the children were all-encompassing, vital in ways she did not even understand.
There was a sound at the door, and the woman turned, startled into recoiling at the bloody and terrible sight in the doorway. He had been made epicene, any evidence of male-ness cut and bled from his body, left in its place a mangled stump of flesh. She did not recognize this canine by sight, though smell might have told her he was a member of the pack -- if the scent of old blood had not been quite so copper-sharp on the air. Her chartreuse eyes stared down at the stranger, instinctively gathering Pan closer to her, drawing her body closer to Salvia and Wretch and before them as the pallid, blood-stained wolf lurched toward them. Her own growl started up but was drowned by a much more frightening sound emanating from Larkspur as he leapt forward in his half-formed body, knocking the other canine to the ground. Her green-gold eyes watched with fascination, all terror evaporated from her. Larkspur would not allow harm to come to their children.
There was a strange fervor within the woman as her chartreuse gaze stared at the pair, one chocolate-cream face frozen with pain and horror, the other with a terrible and boiling rage. White teeth like daggers reached for the thin and frail neck, whatever blood left in the body pulsing there beneath the surface. Though the sable-shaded hybrid could think of no words to say, noise erupted from her all the same, some deep and animalistic growling that she could not suppress. She moved in front of her children, legs splayed wide and stance protective, and watched the massacre.
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