Broken Antler Fen the vorpal blade went snicker-snack!

Let's be real: coyotes get a bad rap. A few bad seeds, and then an entire (not entirely different) species hates all of them. Draper was nothing of the sort. He was polite, tolerant, and generally welcoming toward wolves. The problem was that they were rarely welcoming toward him. Nor did they tend to take a coyote's claim seriously. The latter bugged him to no end, especially when they seemed perfectly capable of both sniffing out and avoiding each other's boundaries.

He wasn't even trying to claim the whole fen as his own. He just wanted a little slice of life where he could gather a few coyotes and live out their days. Why was that so much to ask?

Draper had spotted a striped wolf laying down on his ground, and he wasn't about to let that slide, no matter how polite he usually was. The politeness was reserved for neutral ground, which he did not consider this to be. Scram! he shouted, This is my home! You can't just lay down here! It was more of a "get off my lawn!" than a truly hostile attack.