He relishes the opportunity to make himself useful. For so long, he has felt spurned by his family, who have become increasingly cautious over the years, much to his distaste. And then the Drageda wolves, who turned him away for no reason save pride, the fools. But Caiaphas and her family have welcomed him with open arms, embraced his ferocity and all that comes with it, and for that, he rejoices.
She finds him feverishly patrolling, feverishly marking, and asks him a question that gets his heart pounding. Eurycrates lifts his nose, looking down on her for a long moment. Her size makes her easy enough to steamroll, but he knows that there is much more to the coywolf than that. She is sly; she will see each and every move before it happens.
The titan must be quicker on his feet. He must think.
After a few beats of split-second calculations, he leaps toward her, jaws aimed at her foreleg--only to blow right past to seize a rear leg instead, which is (hopefully) unprepared for the surprise attack. Should he be successful, he will twist suddenly--but gently, so not to hurt her too badly--and sweep her off her paws.

It hadn't occurred to him that he was to attack the unknown male, not Caiaphas herself. Yet here he is, pitted against the siren queen with his packmate now besieging him, too. Eurycrates rarely dwells on mistakes; it is better to spend energy righting wrongs than mourning them. He takes advantage of the confusion and spins in the sand, leaping toward Mwe instead.
There is the sharp sting of Caiaphas's teeth in his flank, and he growls, resisting the impulse to turn his jaws on her. He lunges at the man's underside, trying to use his size to his advantage and bowl him over, as he had Caiaphas. Now it seemed as if Caiaphas was attacking both, and. . .
Eurycrates grins devilishly, caught between two warriors. What a way to spend an afternoon.