Jade Fern Grove she wasn't looking for a knight, she was looking for a sword

Embry felt his hackles raise ever so slightly, sea-green gaze flickering beneath his tawny brow. He could feel the hostility radiating from her pelt. Beneath him, his claws flexed into the earth, creating large divots in the russet foliage. He suppressed the urge to condense his temper. It would certainly be a lethal shock to simply let it free - let it boil towards that one climactic moment in which his muscles were loosed to do their will. He would like to call it vengeance, heck if vengeance even half encompassed the territory he was about to venture upon, but his heart told otherwise. The old Embry was a gentleman, and certainly no raven. But even as she spoke, he felt a mirthful smile spring to his lips. His tail swayed eagerly, a plume of golden swinging as that of a pendulum behind him. This was too comical to ignore: her belief that he could be so quickly diverted.

     "As it appears, you are the one that came from somewhere..." He trailed off and stifled a yawn, fangs glinting subconciously as he stood. His back arched while he stretched, paws splayed out before him. In his peripherals, he kept his sights targeted on the female. If she moved, it would be easily intercepted. Yet, she did not, and he was forced to engage himself. Grimacing, he stopped and cocked his ears, pointedly aggravated. "I really thought you'd have gotten the gist of this whole game by now. I'm - not - leaving." And with that, he lunged toward the fae, a blur of muscle and aurean fur. His momentum sent his body careening sideways, so that as his teeth clamped shut somewhere along the female's neck and shoulder the added force was enough to shove her groundwards. It wasn't the most accurate of shots (his teeth only clipped at the surface of her skin), but it compensated with the raw gravitational effect. Being a larger wolf didn't always have its downsides.