Great Bear Wilderness Precious and Fragile Things

If the other had kept quiet, perhaps Dovev would have been the outlet to her aggression. Both of them were close, too close; but one was moving closer, vocal, loud. From here, she could not smell how old the other being was; but if she could, it would have changed nothing.

Tonravik hears the slew of insults, but doesn't truly hear them. This is the second wolf who thought it wise to lurk too close. She howls, warning her wolves to stay alert, to lurk. It is then she charges into the fray, toward the older of the two, to silence him. When she notes Dovev, she snaps in his direction; she would sooner be on his tail if he drew any closer to her borders and forget this senile, vocal man. She stretches outward, feeling as though she were in flight, and prepares to attempt to grab the man by his left shoulder, throwing her ample weight toward him so that he might fall or stumble backward should she hit. Too close for comfort. Her eyes narrow to protect themselves, chin dipping to cover her throat.