Whitefish River But I am unsure

@Ira

Celara was troubled.

Her stay at Kaistleoki had started well enough, strange as the territory was. Hieronymous had been kind, yet was clearly strong enough to teach her well. The few others she had spoken to were welcoming enough. Everything was going well.

Right until her mentor disappeared. 

Now, what was she to do? Should she return to her pack, carrying the news to the Empress? Stay here and seek a new mentor? 

Well, whichever one she chose, she would have speak with the leader. Thus she was sitting by Ira's den, waiter for her to return.

Tucked away in Ira’s den, overslept a wild, hateful little imp. He stirred for nothing and no one — besides to accept an offer of food — and, up until now, the foundling had been relatively tame considering. But, little did the residents of Kaistleoki know, the little tyrant was only recuperating.
 
Leshen awoke to the sound of a conspicuous stirring just outside the denmouth and, like a trained guard, the boy vaulted to his feet and fumbled boldly towards the noise. He had to stop suddenly, to close his eyes against the unexpected day-brightness of the outdoors; but he vowed that once he could stop blinking, the one who had caused this disturbance was dead meat.
 
He took one look at the she-wolf sitting on her leader’s doorstep and he rocketed towards her, mouth wide and pearly whites flashing, as he went to give her a warning bite — right on her undefended butt.

Movement stirred within the den and Calara nearly jumped. Had this pack's leader somehow hidden away within her den? How could the she-wolf not have noticed? She had just enough time to recall the pup-scent before something small and vicious charged out at her, teeth bared. She flinched and instinctively struck out with her paw, realizing again it was a pup barely in time to soften her blow. Against the fury and aggression of the tiny creature, it was impossible to know if her attack would hit in time to avoid a bite, though even weakened it was strong enough to knock over a creature of that size.

Except! Her butt was not undefended at all. Seemed she had hidden eyes in the back of her head, the sly witch. He took a hard paw across the face, before his teeth could get anywhere near the intended target, and Leshen found himself in the dirt, spun around — facing the den again — with a throbbing sensation numbing the left side of his skull.

The ruddy foundling felt rattled, unable to help how obviously taken aback he looked at first. Yet, as he almost instantly began scrambling back to his feet, it became apparent that this action had only seemed to rally the devil child into a retaliatory rage.

He recovered fearlessly, even after absorbing the adult’s reflexive blow, and flung himself headlong at the unfamiliar wolf once again — mouth ajar. It appeared he had mistook her (very reasonable) reaction as a challenge to his (nonexistent) authority. She needed to be taught a lesson.

don't be afraid to bat this stubborn little git around ;3

Celara's first sensation after her paw connected was fear. Had she injured the pup that was rushing out? Had she mistaken curiosity for aggression? These questions were answered quickly and to the negative as soon as the pup recovered and started charging. It- no, he- was clearly quite sturdy. And vicious.

Facing the attack of the pup, the grey she-wolf once again struck out at him once again, this time harder and better aimed. If the pup could walk of her previous blow so easily, he could survive a stronger one. And if he couldn't... she'd cross that bridge when she came to it.