Twisted Slough how neatly spreads his claws

When prompted by Svalinn to explain the trials of those wolves beholden to strength and progression over tender bonds like blood or marriage, the Eyjolfur matriarch did not disappoint. The boy became  learned on several lasting lessons at once— chiefly that dumb wolves died dumb and that he never wanted to be like the Redhawks, who were too afraid (or too offended) to treat non-familial members with any fairness— but he hadn't even a second to process a response to any of this when an unfamiliar voice barked out to the trio.

The aurelian boy went rigid, whipping his wiry frame towards the unidentified source of virile energy and meeting the would-be challenger with a stiff brawler's glare. Stay back, his inept stance demanded, while a long, wavering thread of a growl tacked on the wishfully assertive lie that his balls had dropped.

you're more than welcome! just sorry about the not-so-welcome wagon <3