Stavanger Bay horses prance through a silver storm

She'd heard her cousin emerge from the den, and had placed his identity by smell long before he planted himself in front of her. The little shewolf should have expected him to do something like that, but in the folly of youth, had thought herself to be safe. A soft, stunted gasp of shock escaped her, and she reared back in an effort to put some distance between herself and the bigger foe - even now, avoidance was her favorite tactic.

A few hop-drag-steps got her the few critical centimeters she needed to be comfortable, and then, once again, a sigh passed by her black lips - one of relief, this time. She was unharmed, and so she was not upset, but she looked warily upon her older cousin, wondering what he could want from her. He did not seem to be in a friendly mood, but she was not certain that he was ever in a friendly mood.