Bramblepoint The shape of brat pop to come

Soon Lasher was growling, his rump thrust into the air as he bowed playfully. Peregrine canted his head, lips twitching in response to the display, then rolled to all fours. He feinted toward the ocher wolf, swiping out a broad forepaw as if to sweep Lasher's legs out from beneath him. Despite his remarks about his age, he was feeling rather spry lately, what with the pups always keeping him on his toes. He was more than up for a chase.