Porcupine Ridge All my life, I was never there

His maneuver was successful, but Farstep had forgotten something rather crucial: his ears. Had this been a real fight, Capriccio's teeth would've shred right through the fine flesh and cartilage without resistance. This was only play, so her grip, while firm, was not enough to puncture and her tug was gentle. Even though it was play, it was something that the tawny wolf would keep in mind for next time. With his jaws wide, he pushed his muzzle against the side of her face, but before he could get a grip of any kind she slipped away and carried him with her. His momentum and awkward position on his hind legs made him tumble, giving Capriccio all the time she needed to regain her footing.

He stumbled to his own paws, jubilant with a wildly whipping tail and boyish clumsiness, and fumbled for a moment with the ground as Capriccio darted away. It took him a moment to hit his stride, but when he did, he raced after her, yet unsure which of them was the faster wolf. Farstep's greater asset was his speed compared with his strength, but Capriccio sported an agile figure, perhaps even more than his own. He threw all of his effort into thrumming his paws over the ground, and his mouth was stretched into a wolfish grin with lolling tongue as he chased her.