Tuktu Weir The only F word is Fun

From a distance, Saena couldn't hear Dovev's growl, though as he drew nearer the rumble became unmistakable. She was right to anticipate an attack, though she could think of no reason for it. Some wolves were simply volatile, others foolishly brazen. Saena was a little of both, and yet she was neither in its entirety, not the way the approaching male was. The woman thought she was something great at times, thought that her power afforded her respect and recognition, but the world was determined to hold Saena down, it seemed, in spite of all she'd achieved. Dovev showed her no respect, not the respect afforded an alpha nor the respect between fellow wolves. His approach was predatory and his snarl was hungry, and momentarily she was offended.

No matter, she thought at length. Dovev was nobody for her to get offended by, and she wasn't about to get into a scuffle with a lone wolf over something she didn't know he wanted. Only imbeciles fought without a pack to back them anyway, and she was certain she could cinch a victory against a straggler who wanted to pick a fight against a stronger and healthier pack wolf, but Saena had children to think about now, and there was the possibility still that she could lose. It wasn't a chance worth taking for someone of no note like him. So she sidestepped, putting distance between herself and Dovev, and then spun on her heel and loped away.