Moonspear new car smell

With each passing second, Floki's uncertainty grew. He was very much still wet behind the ears -- never before had he been contested in any way. Like his older brother, he had been vaulted into leadership before reaching adulthood, and it had been an easy ride so far. He had Amekaze and Charon to guide him, and there was little in the hierarchy that ruffled his feathers.

But now, he found himself face to face with an older, more experienced male, who seemed intent on driving those points home. The only wolf that had challenged him before was Tevinter, and that had been nothing but name-calling and word-slinging. This -- this was different. He watched with a tense jaw as the male stepped confidently towards him and reached out with a broad forepaw. He raked it through the soil, unearthing blades of tender grass and attempting to smother Floki's scent.

Again, Floki curled his tail over his hindquarters, his hackles bristling. He inched forward, cocking his leg once more to sprinkle the upturned dirt, his lips pressed in a taught line. He wouldn't be able to draw the comparison himself -- and would have been horrified if he had -- but he emanated Ragnar in that moment, refusing to let go of his claim.