[/html]Well, this is awful as well, so there!
She had no desire to ever see or meet her mother anymore. It had been half-hearted from the start, and more for her father's sake than anything else, and the bitterness had been left to fester over the years. If Rachias had not left such a gaping wound in their family, then perhaps they would have been content to remain where they were, and perhaps she would not have now spent more of her life wandering than not. Cassandra did not know that she was looking for a person anymore. She was confident that her father and sister were out there, maybe even nearby, now, but they were as strange and fairy tale as anything else. Time and distance changed people, changed relationships, and she knew that even if they had not, she had changed. And the pallid woman was sure she would disappoint them somehow.
The lonely stone tower did not have much on the inside. There were flat-surfaced rocks stacked along half the interior perimeter, and a steep, winding staircase met the ground opposite the entrance. Stray rocks here and there in the middle of the room suggested that the stairs probably weren't safe to venture up. Cassandra seated herself against the wall and felt vaguely claustrophobic. Forests were definitely still her favorite place to be. Shelter and openness all at once, imagine that.
"No," she told the golden stranger. "Raw is fine. Faster, easier, and the way we were meant to eat it, hm?" Humans had cooked because their stomachs were weak; that was all. Wolves cooked because it was a novelty, maybe, but she had never had a taste for it and found it a little pretentious.
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