Deepwood Weald Against you, a weak defense

The lone wolf in front of him was filled with contradictions; stepping foward while tempting Crux' boundaries as if was a sweet treat just out of reach, forbidden to have and at the same time there was an air of nervousness radiating around Farstep. Horcrux didn't quite understand the actions of the other wolf, not even when speaking only the language of the wild. He was already close enough to gather all the information needed and the raven boy had even given a fair, obvious and clear warning not to get too close. He didn't want to fight and risk any unneeded injuries but he also wasn't one to back down, give-up and move away; especially not when he was tempted and, in a way, tricked.

Then, something inside the yearling snapped and all reason was washed away, instantly replaced by instinct. Feral, savage and blind-sighted. Farstep had done just that, stepped too far. Without further warning or saying a word, he jerked upwards and stood up. His neck hairs, once sharp and alert, now stood out like what could appear to be lion manes from afar. His ears were flattened and his leathery lips uncurled. He wanted the other wolf gone, away, out of here. His boundaries had been stepped over, his warning ignored.

Feeling a wave of anger searching within, a savage fire stirred and Horcrux snapped into the direction of Farstep. Leathery lips uncurled, teeth ready to grab anything he could; even if it was just air.