Kipling did not particularly miss the hybrid, though she had taken note of his absence. Self-absorbed as she was the Lambda wondered if she had, had any part of his reluctance to stay around their mountain home. (She was not at all aware of the issues he'd been having with his lover's distance.) It was not at the forefront of her mind, and she wouldn't think long about it if Fang never happened to return. But then, she caught his scent.

She follow it, if only to verify that he was actually still living and breathing. It wasn't such a long trek before she caught the sight of him heading away from the mountain. Curiosity as to where exactly he was sneaking off to all this time, and what the big secret was--hoping it would turn out to be some piece of juicy gossip, she relented the option of letting him fade into oblivion, and began to follow behind him.

Hey, loser. She greeted, not about to be sneaky while trying to keep pace with her packmate. Going ghost on us again? Prying to see how he would explain his lack of attendance, or if he would at all.

Thoroughly enjoying the disgruntled reaction she elicited from the slick hybrid, the she-wolf's expression remained neutral. She gave a silent internal hardly at his delusional claim he'd kicked any part of her ass (the knick she'd received was barely a scab now) and lifted her brows somewhat put off on how reluctant he seemed to turn around and face her. When he did she was met with a familiar half-smile and for the moment brushed it off until his eyes diverted the other way.

While he seemed keen to feel like he'd rather be anywhere else but in Kipling's company, she rolled her eyes. So what's the big secret? She pressed, very much aware that he'd intended to leave the mountain again, there was no way he was wandering around just to settle down for chit-chat. Do I not get to know? She expected him to deflect her questions again, but even so she insisted as was what in her nature to do.

You and the little miss have a fight and you have to sleep out of the den? She'd be amused if he'd been put in the "doghouse" by Red (though it was very hard to time the wolf as anything but patient and gentle) and it showed clearly in her tone, a smile inching up her maw.

Well it wasn't as much fun if he didn't play along. Any sort of quip would have satisfied her more than the lacking answer she received. Cocking an ear forward with a new sense of confusion it heightened when her packmate suddenly moved to exit (she assumed) and then just as quickly paused at her next remark to come back at her more fired up than what she'd anticipated.

Kipling's smile dropped flat after that, a small frown replacing its presence on her lips. The low growl was enough of a warning to make her take a step back from Fang, thought it served to annoy her more than anything else.

Oh, so you did fuck up. That's no surprise. At this point coming to the conclusion that her shot in the dark about his absence had actually hit the target. And if that was the case and he was having issues with his humping partner then Kipling, of course, would not be taking his side. She had no interest in hearing him out either. Her own bias clouded any sense of fairness she might have considered, had it been anyone else.

Her own lip curled as he made a swift move towards her ready to meet any attack towards her with a full force offense of her own. But she was left wanting, keen to duke it out between them (as her own pride would not allow her to swallow her words or regret them) but instead was left with what she saw as an empty threat. And he didn't disappoint with her assumption, already turning around as if she did not matter at all.

Heart pounding with the adrenaline Kipling had gathered at his sudden approach, she was left fuming, translating his disregard for her as an insult. A more rational Kipling told her to let it be, despite his actions she was more than he gave her credit for, but the seething part of her bubbling up with rage wanted to swipe at him for his mistake. The mistake being you don't spit out a threat and turn tail acting like your goddamn untouchable.

Determined to safeguard her dignity (as she saw it) the Lambda without warning reached forward to snap at his back leg--to catch it and literally drag him back towards her. He had no issue breaking her personal bubble a moment ago, and with his back turned, she made use of the miniscule time and space that he'd gotten ahead of her with.

There wasn't much to guard herself with, having not thought ahead as to how he would retaliate. Blood pooling into her mouth as she crunched down on the hybrid's leg wit a sharp growl now surging in her growl, Kipling didn't have much in the way of maneuvering when it came to keeping her grip on him and getting out of the way. And so, he bore down her, the pressure of her jaws against him surging for a moment as his teeth clipped down on the side of her neck.

Instinctively at that moment she released him, tugging and using all of her efforts to move away and out of his grip. Despite the pain that flashed hot in her veins, it was a bad position to be caught in; a realization that dawned on her a moment too late. Seeking to scramble out from his hold and turn around so that she might face him directly.

The growl he gave was echoed by her own rumble, teeth pressed lightly and exposed, a wicked tongue whipping out between her fangs and curling back. It took a lot of willpower for Kipling to not lunge and try her luck again. Instead, face to face she snorted meeting his gaze evenly and taking a decisive step back. The she-wolf was satisfied with what damage she had done already, and really didn't want to exhausted herself with the effort it would to take to assert herself above him. Besides, it wasn't as if she wanted him to stay. He'd been doing what she (and she assumed Ferdie) had wanted from the start.

If I were you She began, words soft and absent of the rage apparent in her expression, I wouldn't bother coming back. Dropping her snarl with a hard squint, she didn't spare him any other words. The slight wound she'd received from the altercation stung in the crisp mountain air as she leapt, to side-step him and jog around so that she could trot back up the slopes. Kipling had put a notch in his usual swiftness, she doubted he'd be able to keep up with her, which would emphasis the point of her message: he no longer belonged on the mountain.