Silverlight Terrace Then there's me, I'm seventeen

The brown wolf took Taggarik's cue to relax and rose up, maintaining a respectful posture in this neutral encounter. The same could not be said of the black wolf as he approached, ears forward and tail lifted in the classic fashion of an alpha dominating his own on his own turf. The flagrant display was misplaced out here on unclaimed soil, and it did not sit well with either of the wolves, who had shown themselves to be nonthreatening and approachable.

Tagg did not hesitate. His own ears swivelled ahead as he stepped toward the pack wolf, stiff legged with muscles coiled at the ready. He was drawn to his full height, his muscles squared toward the other wolf. The skin across his muzzle wrinkled with strong offense, a glimpse of white fang a warning of what he offered if the other insisted. His tail was still behind him but did not raise, his body asking only that the male adjust himself to be more agreeable, while telling of Tagg's unwillingness to be treated this way. The proximity of his pack afforded him no rights to such arrogance.