Heron Lake Plateau improve his shining tusks

Two sets of eyes were upon him in the wood, and Svalinn was none the wiser. Thus was the cursed blessing of childhood -- an existence largely shaped by ignorance -- leaving the blond boy with little mind for anything other than the flight of the quick butterfly. It wasn't until he heard a voice did he whirl around to place his attention elsewhere; finding the dark face and hungry smile of a she-wolf he didn't recognize. He was uncertain, but not entirely daunted by her presence. His tail even wagged a little as he stood rigidly and seemed to debate whether or not he wanted to come closer.

But she was closing the distance too fast -- rude! -- and it didn't give him the choice he usually had to approach first. Wolves weren't typically so quick to crowd an unfamiliar pup; this was quite frankly a jarring experience and his response was to bite her, and teach her a lesson. Just as he growled, prepared to spring and dominate, Fire slithered above him and impeded the progress of both victim and assailant: Svalinn, of course, considering himself the latter.

He peered through her legs, feeling emboldened by the fact that he knew this she-wolf -- more like recognized -- but his would-be attack was staved by the dangerous air around her. Something was wrong. Fire wasn't being friendly, and suddenly another wolf -- black-furred and equally as unfamiliar as the first -- joined the flame-lapped she-wolf in her ire. Svalinn stumbled backwards, stunned, as a vicious scene began to unfold before him.