Nova Peak Mouth full of gum,

It seemed this new arrival at least knew their place in the pack. More importantly, they knew hers. Wylla only felt the need to demand respect when she felt it wasn't being given automatically, as was the demand of the hierarchy, and so she relaxed a little. The edges of her softened, but just slightly. She was, after all, suspicious of yet another woman in the pack.

Her recent argument with Mahler drifted unwelcome into her mind. Maybe in believing that she intended to replace him, he had already sought to do the same. It had been a long time since they had a joiner out of nowhere, and what were the odds it was a beautiful woman? Biding her time and seeing what he was going to do hadn't got her much in the past, so Wylla decided at once to be direct about it. Have you come here to court Mahler? There was a sharpness to her yellow gaze that hadn't been there before, a tension to her jaw.

She really could not justify bloodying a packmate's hide for having designs on her man—they were not technically bonded, despite that possessive feeling—could she?