Kintla Flatlands I hear my home callin'

"Probably not," Peregrine said. "I already know you're full of piss and vinegar." He gave her a pointed look. "I'm sure you could hold your own with most wolves... but I'd lay you out so fast, you wouldn't know what happened to you." He sneered, albeit without any real malice.

At last, she gave him a name and even an allegiance, which meant little to him. "No," he answered, "your name is Lil' Weenie. And I can't remember if I told you this before but I'm Peregrine." He gave her a bit of a cheshire grin, though his swarthy face quickly fell back into an expressionless mask befitting his wry humor. "You can call me Perry if you like."

The Alpha male shifted his weight, glancing at the plateau as gloom gathered about it. He wanted to get home to Hawkeye, though he knew he'd still need to hunt up some supper; he wouldn't be showing up empty-handed. Every moment spent lingering here with the foxlike she-wolf was pretty much wasted time, though Peregrine would be lying if he said her personality didn't intrigue him, despite his usual lack of tolerance for outsiders.

Facing her again, Peregrine spoke without preamble. "You should know something about me, now that we're friends, Lil' Weenie. I don't really leave my territory, so I'm not going to come find you at your creek—unless you give me a damn good reason, like I mentioned. But on that note..." He rotated his neck with some accompanying cracks. "Where's the creek? Is it close by? Is that why you keep showing up on my borders like a bad case of herpes?"