Blackfeather Woods Something about you turns me to a savage

The boy pressed his newly lifted ears forward in response to Titmouse's exclamation and he aimed a huge, toothsome grin up at the blue-pelted stranger. Titmouse grinned back at him, too—or at least that's how Ramsay interpreted it. The adult's threat was lost on the young pup, who had yet to experience the physical backlash that came with ignoring such a display. Ramsay associated Potema with aggression, but the other adults in his life were nice enough, if distant. None of them ever gave him a reason to fear them, and he lumped Titmouse into the same category.

He cantered toward Titmouse with his tongue lolling, ignorant to his gorilla-esque gait and the unfamiliar tangy scent of fear permeating the Glen's air. He only stopped running when a dark shadow passed by in his newly discovered peripheral vision, and like a hawk, he snapped his body to the side and fixed his gaze on @Euron. For a moment his scrutiny was intense as he flipped through the faces in his memory bank, but then his jaws parted into another wide grin and his tail wiggled. Euron preferred to stay near the edges of the glen and Ramsay did nothing to persuade him out, but he knew if Euron seemed relaxed, then there was nothing to worry about.

So with a yip, the stunted pup spun back around to Titmouse and galloped straight toward that bright, interesting marking on the older wolf's flank.