Swiftcurrent Creek buckle my shoe

Edit:I always garble something whenever I post from my phone.

The scent of blood was a beacon to the tawny male, as it was to any predatory animal, granted, but his very particular business was blood, whether it was the agony of another wolf or weakened prey. It drew him forth like it would a shark. So when the raw, metallic tang hit his nostrils it sent a tenacious message, wrapped in the wild and somehow delicate eau de Fox he wouldn't ignore. He immediately took off to find her.

You idiot, he accused languidly as he laid eyes on her and strode close. But you know, if you die the next time you pull your lovely shit I'll be sure to carry on your legacy. The world should know of your valiant efforts to piss other people off, he said with a touch of his ordinary cheek. He wasn't going to attempt to persuade her not to continue with her antics—the truth was that he admired them. It was like looking at himself. That, of course, added to the fact that he sincerely doubted she would listen. But he certainly wanted to know why she was on the verge of obsession with a couple of wolves she'd thrown out of Swiftcurrent Creek. She seemed well on her way to filling the shoes Lethe had left behind for her in a way all her own.

He didn't wait to be invited. With a strong protective urge he hadn't imagined he could feel in a case of utter stupid, he closed the distance between them and settled with her left shoulder against his deep chest, pulling her in gently. He took a moment to survey the damage left between her shoulder blades, but preened the fur behind her ear as he did it. It was ghastly. His prediction for what might happen next time could very well be dead on.