Stavanger Bay This night ain't for the faint of heart

as they bore down upon each other sandpiper expected rosalyn to crumple, to fold -- to call it off as some hideous joke. a howl split the she-wolf's muzzle and for a moment sandpiper faltered, still expecting the wolf to call off her egregious display of insubordination.

instead she shouldered the female, the brunt of her blow carried by a broad swing of momentum. sandpiper felt herself roughly pushed aside, spun around like the thin edge of a stick on a hard surface.

pain. a fingerling web of it shot across the gnarled wound on her scruff, her breath already rasping.

she scrambled to regain her balance, her outside hind splayed as she committed to a coarse pirouette designed to bring her fully about to face rosalyn once more. the impact of their collision hastened her messy footwork and the pain from the blow made sandpiper frothy with retaliatory frustration. rosalyn at this point had likely carried on past her -- with a snarl the she-wolf careened forward and drove for a trailing hock, anything at all to bring this wretch down on the ground where she belonged. 

sandpiper remained unaware of the gathering audience. all that held her focus at this juncture was enforcing the hierarchy tooth and nail. rosalyn would pay for her insubordination; by fang or claw.