Blackfeather Woods I'm just a poor boy, I need no sympathy

Jaws found their way around the opponent’s muzzle, the grip a secure one. There was some resistance, resulting in a growl having risen from the back of the yearling’s throat. It was but a warning—for now. Easily could it then lead to further acts being committed against the boy, but not yet. In spite of his anger, Xan was still very much in control of himself. He would not do anything that might be considered unnecessary later on, for such useless movements would only tire his own body. His lack of excess discipline had soon proved to have not been a poor choice, either, as Seff stilled beneath him. The folding of his ears and the muffled whimper spoke volumes to the Inuk, his instincts having easily perceived it as submission.

Alexander’s hold had neither loosened nor grown tighter, remaining just the same throughout the whole ordeal. He looked down towards the boy, tail raising and then arching over his back. After another low, throaty growl, he’d released the tawny whelp’s muzzle and removed himself from atop the body. “You’re nothing but a servant,” he’d snapped. “If you fight back against me like that again, I will kill you.” During situations such as the current, never was he without a serious tone. And though his words were just that, he would back them up with actions in a heartbeat, should it ever be necessary.