Just close your eyes, dear [J]

Do you mind playing this out for a few more posts just to get it to 10?

Just as all dominant wolves wanted to secure their leadership with more shows of strength and dominance, all submissive wolves had a limit to what they would allow. Frequent domination of a subordinate tested the subordinate's patience, and Viatrix had known wolves in the past who, meek upon first impression, had turned upon their superiors for being overbearing. It was a fine line that Alphas walked between tyranny and authority, and each subordinate allowed only as much as they could take.

In this case, Viatrix accepted the resting of the superior male's muzzle on her back, though she did so with a stiffening of her tail. It was enough to tell him that she accepted his superiority, but also to remind him that she had already submitted to his will and would not tolerate further shows of dominance.

He introduced himself as Ferdie Von Pelt (a mouthful of a name) and announced an upcoming pack hunt. The thought of hot meat in her belly, picked from a fresh kill rather than scavenged from remains, instantly made her tongue wet with a wash of saliva. “I do enjoy a good hunt,” chuffed the DeMonte, choosing not to comment on the necessity of getting to know her inevitable superiors. It was something she would face shortly, and no doubt it would come with the ritualized determination of rank, but she didn't plan to search for them immediately.

She fell into step behind him, conscious of the position of both her head and her tail as she bobbed along the rising terrain in his wake. “Newly christened?” she assumed, having gathered from his previous comment that the mountain pack was either in its earliest stages or had been bereft of food for quite some time.