Swiftcurrent Creek and when the levee breaks

This was nothing personal for Wallflower. This was business. No matter if they had gotten along under different circumstances, the stranger was now a defiant trespasser that refused to simply up and leave. She'd rather have solved the issue without the violence her presumed packmate had brought to the table, but it was inevitable now. Crimson blood spilled from the stranger's ankle, painting her blonde fur a lighter red hue. The taste was awfully familiar. It was the exact same taste as her commander's nape, dripping due to his own blood, whom she had grabbed and tugged at to try and save him.

I think leaving would be the better course of action for you. She commented softly in her hoarse voice, still reliving her memories. But there was no use. Her presumed packmate had had enough of the stranger and as he charged, so did she, her only intention being to chase him out with quick nips at his ankles and legs.