Heron Lake Plateau i could tell she wasn't lying, you were lying with a lion up there

Svalinn, for all his scrawny worth, put up the mightiest competition he could during his bout with Niamh. He learned to tactfully take advantage of the moments she would pause in her retaliations to speak with his mother, but even these lulls in her attention were more than he could surmount. The boy was flabbergasted -- to put it lightly -- and it was this frustration that made him return to the task again and again, despite being parried at every turn. All of him seemed to want to win, and it was clear that he wasn't taking into account the fact that she could pop off his head like a barbie doll.

But her strength was as incomprehensible to him as Caiaphas' was. He could not best the much larger gold she-wolf, try as he might, and it didn't take long for him to become spent in his effort. Soon the steam coming out of his ears had thinned, and his bullish charging had turned to the pace of a bouncing marshmallow. His bites too had lost their vigorous needling, and he was almost glad to hear the words Ankyra Sound as they served him up a distraction. I know those words! he perked up, giving up on his fight so that he might pretend to be truly interested in something else.

But as he paddled to Caiaphas, his emotions simmered with vengeance. And as he pressed himself affectionately into his foster mother's chin, he kept a side-eye out for Niamh. All he wanted was to best his giant gold twin -- it was written all over his sly, little slumpuppy face -- but for now he opted for rest and protection under the shade of mommy dearest's vicious muzzle, while puzzling impishly over his lack of ability.