Moonspear snap crackle pop

<3!

Luke was a conversationalist. He fully embraced the spoken language and lived a far less feral life than others, but his instincts had not been lost (they were not as sharp, perhaps) and he understood the message he had been sent by the darker wolf's teeth. He winced as other wolf bit down harder, but in the next moment the pressure was lifted and a tongue was soothing his muzzle. He had not meant to cause pain, but he had. His playmate's ears were apparently more sensitive than he had anticipated.

Their gazes met. Luke's tail continued its sweeping motion, eager to resume their fun. He rolled to his side, pawing at the air in front of the other's muzzle, feigning a playful swat without connecting. He rumbled softly, imploringly.