Totoka River cherry soul

Driftwood's fur bristled out like a porcupine, and his eyes gleamed like fire as the other male responded in kind to his barging in. It was true enough that Moorhen held all the real authority here, and that by rights Driftwood ought to be deferring to her as well, but the gangly-legged male actively worked to block Teleklos's view of Moorhen. Drift didn't like the idea of waiting patiently for instructions, and didn't want to hang back and see if the uppity dog wolf was going to presume on Moorhen's unusually forgiving nature that Drift himself had been so recently surprised by. No, Driftwood was offended, and wanted to make sure preemptively that this creeping loner didn't get any ideas about his packmates. And, especially, about his Moorhen, of all wolves.

The lady set him straight pretty quick however. Driftwood's ear flickered back toward her for a moment as she rapped out his name, but it wasn't until she slammed a disciplinary tooth into the back of his skull that Driftwood was quite literally knocked free from his posturing shenanigans.

More out of surprise than anything, he went tumbling down onto one sideways-skewed furry brown thigh into the dirt before turning a shocked and bewildered expression upon his pack superior. He'd only been trying to protect her, after all! Obviously this other guy was bad news and Driftwood wasn't at all comfortable having him so close to Moorhen. He shifted his wide, unhappy eyes down to her feet, folding his ears back submissively as a little whine escaped him. He shot one last sullen glare in Teleklos's direction before he bowed his own long nose obediently but somewhat sulkily. What was Moorhen doing coming over this way and hanging out with this random jerk of a stranger anyway? Driftwood couldn't quite articulate why it bothered him so very much, but he was dead certain it was unfair and unnecessary, especially when it was somehow inexplicably ending up with himself labeled as the big bad wolf here. ...He resembled nothing more than an overgrown recalcitrant puppy put into a time-out as he hunched grumpily in on himself there on the shore of the river, deliberately though with some difficulty making himself shorter than Moorhen, but though he did let out a tiny resentful huff of breath he he didn't offer any further resistance to either Moorhen's demands, or to the pair of other wolves' attempts to converse.