Flycatcher Downs now that you're done shuffling the tits off the queens

Blackbird...

She smelled so real. The touch of her soft fur against his lips.

Skwol's wandering snout was jostled as Laurel stepped him to separate him from Indra. Unthinking, his reaction was kneejerk. He whirled and tried to shove Laurel back with his broad head and muscled shoulder, growling lowly with his ears thrust forward dominantly and his tall stance unmistakably possessive and guarding.

His father's steadfast voice broke suddenly and loudly through his mind.

"Get a grip, Skwol."
The young pup pressed his paw down harder on the bone, his snarling head lowered defensively over his claim and his eyes fierce and flashing in challenge.
"You think that marrowless bone is worth fighting me for? I could kill you. You're not even half grown. Instincts are there to guide you, not control you. Think!"

Oh no. The aggression writ across Skwol's face slackened into horror and embarrassment as he realized he had been beguiled by Indra's season. He stepped back, away from them both, folding his ears back and slowly shaking his head. His body sagged under the weight of his misstep. "Indra," he murmured, unable to look her in the face and still trying to gather himself. "I didn't realize... I—"

He couldn't help that fleeting glance to her flank. Nor his sudden alarm.

"Your tail!"