SET MY WINGS ON FIRE / typhoon

[trojan g.]

If she had been told that one day Goldenluxery Roux would one day be back at the borders of the Pitt alone, Sweeney would have laughed. The last time she had seen the leader of the Typhoon had been when Sweeney had been a child, only three months old, and she had watched as the winged tigress had set the pike aflame that Jervis Callahan had been tied to, right in front of her.

She had vowed at the time to never forget the face, never forget the names of those who had wronged her and her family, especially Goldenluxery, the one who start the fire.

Eyes narrowed as she heard the sound of the captain, demanding to see the ardent that the Pitt now had. The ardent who had vowed to make the Pitt great again, and who Sweeney believed wholeheartedly could do it with the proper followers. Lucky for him, he had those, or so it seemed.

Paws led the kitsune to the border, ears pinned to her head and growl leaving her throat. Sweeney didn't take orders from anyone, especially pieces of shit like the Roux's. So she'd quickly lunge, maw open and aiming for the throat of the captain, lightning sparking from her body in rage. She would get her revenge, and didn't care that Silent was there now.

THERE ARE RULES AND THERE ARE STRICTURES