Dragoncrest Cliffs Close your eyes and sleep,

Jackalope's shaggy hackles raised when another wolf spoke out, one with a twang that made his dark lips twist in somewhat of an inscrutible grimace, as though he was about to call the other out on account of making the lamest joke he'd ever heard. But he clamped his mouth shut, keeping the strange man in his peripheral vision. From what he could tell, his shout had had little to no effect on the two males...So he supposed he would have to step in, now. Fortunately, his 'pardner' was full of piss and vinegar- and let out an ear-piercing ullulation that caused Jackalope to curse loudly under his breath- a string of words I wouldn't dare even type out- and watch as he valiantly led a charge toward the trio of fighting wolves. 

"Oh yeah. Go for the smaller one." He grumbled to himself as Sunhawk chose the piebald yearling as his target. He heaved a reluctant sigh as he eyed the slate coloured male up, noting the thick shoulder that was turned in his direction- whether it was a warning that he shouldn't even bother, or simply a means of protecting himself from an attack that he assumed was going to happen. Jackalope might've been near the same height as the ashen male, but he was nowhere near the same weight. He didn't rush in the way Sunhawk had, though he realized that every moment he spent considering whether or not it was really worth joining the fight, the female suffered more and more pain. 

He didn't have much choice in the matter. The ashen male was posing much more of a threat than the other- in Jackalopes inexperinced opinion- so with a soft hiss of curses, he lowered his head, crouched, and threw himself into a lope, accelerating only at the last moment to avoid simply running off the edge of the cliff if Mahler suddenly stepped back. With snapping jaws, he aimed for the male's rear end- hoping to catch hold of the male near his sensitive flank, so that in the very least he might relinquish his assult on the dark female and turn to face his new foe.