Cricket Creek Bog comme un boomerang

Did he just say what she thought he'd said? Niamh recoiled. "Uh," She punctuated, bristling, before she shuddered. "Iw!" She said, snorting in incredulousness. He was incredibly forthcoming, and she found it a bit disgusting. She pondered for a moment if she ought note that she was already paired with a mate, but figured that any wolf willing to make such blatant sexual comments to a stranger probably wouldn't care if she was married or not. 

She was still revolted by him enough that she regarded him with disgusted skepticism when he invited her to a spar. She stiffened, and raised her tail above her haunches. "Nope. I don't fucking trust you. You can turn and run the fuck away from here right now, and never come an inch closer to my packlands, or I can shred you to bits. Your choice." She threatened. She didn't want this creep setting foot anywhere near the area- as she knew her children were at the age where they considered nearby territories- such as the bog- to be safe places for an adventure. Quetzal practically lived in the bog- and she was certainly not comfortable letting this stranger have the hance to get anywhere close to her children. If he refused to leave, it wouldn't be a spar- it would be a downright fight.