Porcupine Ridge krazy glue

Taggarik had finally left the side of his newly beloved it would seem, and the she-wolf practically cringed as the wind told the tale of how near he was. She was not ready to look upon him, and so her paws began to hurry away, seeking out the direction of the border – she could take a day or two away from the territory to clear her mind.
 
She had nothing left to protect here, anyhow.
 
Yet Taggarik’s voice thundered across the terrain, and determined still, her lope would only quicken. It was then the male spat out a statement that sent her pelt bristling once more – not once missing the ridiculousness of the statement nor the anger in his own tone. Whirling, a fitting image of fury and scorn, the she-wolf practically seethed at the wolf, her eyes narrowed, her form shaking gently with emotion. “Oh?” The tone practically oozed venom, and she gave a gentle shake of her pelt, trying to rid herself of her nerves. “I seen you, Taggarik. You’ve claimed her. You’ve made your choice.”
 
There was another pause and she exhaled gently. “And if she wants my rank, she will have to try to take it from me.” Gone, apparently, were the days of her word when she had promised she would step aside for his mate. His word to her had been broken – she had no quarrel returning that favor.