Ouroboros Spine I had a violin somewhere, I was gonna play it all sarcastically

Her paws had been dirtied her whole life, by things far worse than this. As he rose, her aggression was curbed, his flattened lobes abating further action in the moment. His question was met with solemn words, "This is our way." There was no choice in that matter. None. If she were to choose independently, surely it would be challenged if it were not agreed upon which it very well could be. It was law. Law of pack. Law of Tartok, who was run by instinct itself. Life was not so simple to a loveless woman, who could not know for certain which male was the strongest here without testing it. "I will have the strongest by my side at the end of this," she rumbles, "And with that end will come cubs that will grow as strong." Family. Their family. Win or lose, it would still be his family if he remained, and it would be well understood their place, and all tension would be resolved.

Her next reaction again had nothing to do with their disagreeing, which was bound to happen anywhere, but for his insubordination in general, which under any circumstance--no matter the grievance--she could not tolerate. She stares back, her eyes not averting, teeth gnashed together as a snarl breaks loose from her, muzzle wrinkled and eyes as sharp as any cleave that broke diamonds apart. There would be a time, if he so decided, for him to dominate her if that was what he so desired—today would not be that day.