Hoshor Plains No Time Left To Breathe

Bear heard a woof. It was not like the woof of coyotes, easily killed with one cuff. Of course, wolves could be too if they got close enough. Her paw was more or less the size of the others narrow head. The hump on her was one large thing of muscle. If the wolf came too close, she would utilize that muscle and swat it away. It looked like it wished to communicate with her, and the animal turned to face it. It did not seem so aggressive as other wolves could become from the get go, but that did not put the sow at ease. Fifteen years of life had been hard-earned, and she knew better than to trust a wolf to be kind.

So she let out a bearish moan/groan. Some might hear: go away. Others might hear: I will eat your family. It was all up to the others interpretation of bear noises, but the animal took a step forward anyway, letting out another groan so the other would rethink her approach, which was too direct for the feral bears liking. Round ears flicked as she looked blankly at the other, but with a sense of awareness about her.