Tiffany
Elena’s white head stood out among the earth toned forest as she wandered through the trees. Tiffany fantasized about hitting it with a rock.
Her hand reflexively slapped the side of her neck where a mosquito had bitten her. The thing exploded onto her hand in a disgusting splotch of blood. She imagined swiping her palm in Elena’s hair to remove the guts, tugging the thick braid that fell down her back.
Tiffany knew she was messing with her, had been for days, but there was nothing she could do about it. Her little flits of fancy in the name of community-building, all her mundane errands that could easily be completed by someone of a far lower stature than Luna of the Waning Moon Pack. As if she knew anything about what that meant to be Luna.
“Don’t take too long!” she yelle
