Precarious Situation

Jinx's command to her wolves had been clear: no canines would step foot near Silvertip Mountain without answering to the teeth of the mountain's inhabitants. She had grown tired of the insolence of others in her time at the creek, and to quell it, had extended the pack's artificial boundary well beyond their true boundary. Any wolf or coyote or other dog-like beast within this narrow stretch of land surrounding the pack's territory was instantly to be chased off or, if fortune favoured, caught and severely beaten. That was how Silvertip worked.

So when a high-pitched, hybrid howl pierced the sky in a summons, Jinx wasted no time. She loped quickly down the mountain terrain, relishing her new-found confidence on the mountain's face and stretching her neck to hold her head high. She arrived on the scene to find Sitri growling at what seemed to be an ordinary coyote.

Sitri gave her an option in the form of words, but Jinx extended no such offer. Words only allowed another a chance to speak, and she didn't want to hear anything come out of the offending coyote's slim mouth but yelps. She lowered her head, thrust forth her ears, and barrelled into a headlong charge directly for the intruder. There was no mistaking her intent. Her jaws slung wide as she lunged, attempting to grab the smaller creature by the scruff and throw her brutally to the ground, where she hoped to tear at it until it pissed itself with fear.