killers linger the least [attn: jinx and/or njal]

The tarred mongrel was an abused soul, prone to snap at any given moment in a repressed and desperate manner that dictated he never wanted to be treated as such again—but being a pack member came with the strict understanding that there were certain drawbacks to the life (namely in ranking), and he was containing his own violence fairly well considering the circumstances. Had he still been a lone wolf and another had done this to him, pack wolf or not, his discrepancy or not, there would have instantly been a very vicious fight.

His snarls lessened to growls beneath her own furious cacophony, but he wasn't completely silent until she released him and gave him the girth to stand again. The skeletal brute raised his upper body, but level his head appropriately to his shoulders as the female glowered pointedly at him, as if she expected further retaliation. But Haunter was slightly rigid, not intending to do anything at all until allowed, and he moved only to shake his ruff quickly to free it of the stinging she'd left behind.

"Haunter," he grunted in a low, gravelly tone that was clearly misused if not entirely forgotten. It was almost a surprise he could speak at all. His yellow eyes gazed harshly at her shoulder, flickering only occasionally to her face, but the scent of her pregnancy threw him off and made him wary of the incredibly hormonal female—he didn't want to challenge her because he knew she would fight and he would rather not fight a mother-to-be.

"Your Lambda," he added at length, using the name Fox had told him and hoping it meant something, anything, to his firm-bellied aggressor.