Tiarnán scurried back from the flowers, urged by instinct to bare his own teeth but resistant as well. It wasn't natural for him. He was no beast, but just a boy. A slender thing without the meaty muscle of the stranger who now accosted him. With an apparent scoff - for he was affronted by this strange behaviour - he lifted his head as if to challenge the ranked wolf. Behind him was a second creature, lurking, sitting, waiting.
"Cé go bhfuil tú?"
He pointedly asked, directing the question along with a coy cock of his muzzle at the two strangers. A moment later - before they could really respond, at least verbally - Tiarnan remembered his initial goal. He almost flattened himself in to the grass. Somehow, his head resisted - remaining poised and dominant while his body folded down. "Oh - wolves pacáiste! Tú i do chónaí anseo." His tail frisked behind him, and he let out a practised whine of desire. Bealtaine mé i mo chónaí anseo freisin?"
Finally he was all the way down, and his tail reluctantly tucked under his belly. He was the epitome of submission, although a fire still flared in his eyes. Something unquenchable - his true colours perhaps. Resistant even as he begged forgiveness.