“What?” Preoccupied as she was, Orin failed to notice Shawchert's approach until he spoke up, and now that he had she jerked a dagger gaze at the unwitting man before her. When she turned to him her face was dark, eyes half lidded and laced with an unexpected rage. Not only did she not want to be bothered, but she especially didn't want any male... no, especially not this male anywhere near her right now! A visceral growl rumbled in her throat, a noise that would have been better suited to her lupus form.
“Is that supposed to be some kind of sick joke!” She held nothing back. She shouted at the top of her lungs and didn't care if everyone else in the whole entire pack heard! “'Are you okay?' Do I look ok to you? I'm burying myself in the snow, for fucks sake! And it's all your fucking fault... Ow! See! No, I don't need you to do shit, you've done enough!” Orin suddenly summoned the words the sailors had taught her when she was on the ship that delivered her to Nova Scotia. She spread her arms and looked down at the mound of snow she had built around her. Shawchert was coming closer... was he going to ruin her work?
“Hey hey hey!” She held up a warning hand. “Get back! Don't you dare touch this, I need it to stay cool. In fact, all this snow? See it? It's mine. DON'T TOUCH IT! Get off of it! Get off of it now!” The hysterical Luperci got to her feet in that awkward way of pregnant women, then grabbed a handful of snow and began packing it tight. That was when the rich aroma of the cooked meat wafted through the air about her, and she paused for a moment to look at the plate in his hand. No! “What the? A cooked meal, Shawchert, really? Don't you have any brains? It's too fucking hot to eat a cooked meal!” As though to contradict her, a frigid breeze toyed through Thornbury. Orin failed to notice the cold.
“Ugh!” She snorted in disgust and let the packed snowball in her hand fly. “Didn't you hear me? I said get off my snow!” She grabbed another and flung it, and suddenly she was an erratic, snowball pitching machine.
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