Bramblepoint cranky curmudgeon

Grinning wolfishly, which makes sense, because he’s a wolf, Cypress let go of Rannoch’s foreleg. There was no rancor in the growls and snarls that drummed harmlessly from his maw as he whipped his hips around and briefly leaned his weight up and into his brother’s gaping jaws — and then he went abruptly limp in Rannoch’s grasp, aiming to give the turquoise-eyed boy a minor case of whiplash so he’d let go.