Porcupine Ridge I found myself in the fire burned hills

Farstep's tail waved jovially as Jhala drew near. The Gamma was glad to see she was in decent shape—perhaps a little worse for wear, but not visibly hurt and capable of walking straight, at least. Harming a pack mate with his antics was never his intention, though admittedly, Farstep didn't go running through herds of unpredictable, flighty animals on the regular, either. They were both lucky, though it would be Farstep to blame had anything adverse happened to himself or Jhala.

Jhala approached boldly, and for the moment, Farstep let her. Yet when her nose prodded at his sore shoulder, he bared his teeth. His muzzle wrinkled only slightly and he was silent but for a sharply drawn breath; it was not so much a threat response as a sign of discomfort. His actions were non-aggressive and he made no move but to whisk his lips back over his teeth when she drew away. He aimed a companionable nip at one of her ears, then seated himself and began to pick away the dirt from one of his paws with a relaxed whine. Soon he would lay down and rest, perhaps nap if the weather and the company permitted it. The continued wave of his tail suggested that Jhala was welcome to join him if she wished, but she wasn't obliged to.