Swiftcurrent Creek swing dancing

Had Jinx been facing down any other wolf in the dirt, she might have lorded her victory over them. It was in her nature to believe herself superior, and not only believe it, but flaunt it. However, this particular wolf had beaten her once before, and had earned her respect in doing so. For one of few times in her life, Jinx took her victory with quiet dignity. It better suited their dynamic, anyway, though the Kesuk wasn't consciously aware of it.

"Me too," she agreed in a voice that caught raggedly in her throat. It was so easy for Jinx to forget that every fight led to exhaustion, and the longer a fight was, the harder the recovery was. She was thankful that this time, there would be no wounds to heal. It had been a long time since the pale mambo felt whole, what with Peregrine defeating her so easily and then Fox besting her by the lakeside. She still bore the scars and scabs of both encounters, on her neck and her face, and at times her rib still ached, particularly when it was cold. She had healed well, considering, but she was grateful there would be no more wounds to tend this time.

She lowered her head to the creek to drink deeply, welcoming the chill of the mountain water as it burned through to her stomach. When she lifted her head, she regarded Fox with a smile, knowing they were in some ways kindred. "It's good to be among true wolves who enjoy the sport of fighting," she said, surprising even herself by saying it. Shearwater Bay, after all, had been that sort of pack, but she hadn't been home in so long, it was easy to forget that.