The familiar calls of her sister’s name drew Bella forward like a shark at the scent of blood. Hungry and curious, she had found herself speeding in the direction of her brother’s approaching voice. Her steps were soft and quiet alongside the crunch of snow as Bella weaved through the now familiar terrain of Dawnbreak, certain that she would successfully intercept her sister’s gathering.

She didn’t know what Hawthorn might’ve wanted with Viola, the two of them had always seemed as thick as thieves from where she often watched. But that didn’t stop Bella from ensuring her quick approach—if anything, it invigorated her legs to move far quicker than she would have normally liked.

She had to get there before Viola.

And when her brother’s familiar silhouette shadowed the sunset behind him—the darkness of his own blue-gray fur like a quiet ode to their mother, unlike hers—Bella’s grin cracked into a toothy, widening smile.

Got ‘em.

She leaped the last few feet, landing in front of Hawthorn with a curious, devilish glint harboring like fire within her gaze. Hi there, she beamed, her coo like a purr before the claws came out. No Vi, today. Sorry.

Whatcha got there, Hawth? Bella asked as she tilted her head to the side, that smile still gleaming, her teeth still glistening.