Aila lunged towards the petite she-wolf; her mind was awake with thoughts screaming at her body to stop, and her muscles were tense from the inner battle inside herself. Malia's quiet yet frantic voice tried to barge through whatever haze or compulsion she was in while her body acted like a puppet on a string. Aila noted her master and her mate fighting; again, dread washed over her like icy water pricking into her skin, but that didn't stop her from counteracting Esme's swift movements. The she-wolf was nimble and lethal, revealing she was an experienced and quite the acrobatic fighter.
Esme's heeled boot connected with Aila's chin, flipping her onto her side. Somehow her foot reached that high, and her mind wandered for a moment. Seriously? She couldn't comment on Esme and her fighting; she needed to stop herself from attacking her shadow!
