Dragoncrest Cliffs Close your eyes and sleep,

a breath and the younger wolf stirred. mahler let out his breath in a relieved sigh, one sucked back into his nostrils as a howling juggernaut of a creature barreled just past them. the shadowpriest's saliva-stiffened hackles flared to life again, frustration warring with worry not only for his comrade, but the newly settled wolves he had led from the spire.
the woman had been dangerous, the second easily scorned. yet he did not trust the remainder of his strength for a third fight. what choice had he, however, in the face of such bullish wrath? 
perhaps he had known one of the fallen, this brute.
"go," he grunted for the ears of the wounded yearling, amethyst eyes finding the summerlit ocean blue of the other's gaze. in the next moment he swung his head away from the boy, stepped betwixt he and the mountain-wolf who sat bunched and furious upon the edge of the cliff. tattered ears swept forward; he held himself neutrally, offering no threat, glancing steadily toward the sea beyond the sharpstone wall.