Blackfoot Forest cried his wife impatiently.

<33 You can wrap it up with one more post?

The breath of hesitation that had overcome the white male had been enough to bristle the hackles on the ash-coated brute. The glint in his gaze was fierce and ravaged by the outside world. Once the pack had been relinquished to him, Kierkegaard did not hesitate to feast on the animal that had been caught by the other male. His teeth sank into the body of the creature and he pulled the chunks of muscle and sinew from the limp body. He did not seem to chew the meal; it touched his salmon tongue and was immediately swallowed into the aching pit in his stomach. The hot blood of the animal was like breathing in an old friend.
 
Kierkegaard finished the catch in front of the other male. With a pointed expression, he held his ears aloft and snorted a foul noise at the pale wolf. He had been a king; Aaron had merely been out to tend to the needs of the woman he loved. It was remarkable how quickly an empire could fall.
 
The brute took a few swaggering steps towards the form of Aaron. Peeling his lips back over his teeth once more and holding his gaze firmly on the face of the submissive male, he scowled. “Leave my sight, craven creature. Go to your fellow pack mates and tell them of your fall,” his baritone rumbled coldly from the back of his throat. Without so much as another word, the brute turned from the form of the white-coated male and disappeared into the heart of the pack land he had ripped from Aaron’s hands.