Sequoia Coast from the ground up

he rolled his eyes as she volleyed back a series of statements—of course she could hunt something better, she had a pack behind her! that implied at least more than one or two others since she had some borders to guard and more importantly, there was strength in numbers. he was just little ol lakhos, scrawny and scraggly and neither fully wolf or coyote.
man? man?? i ain't no man sweetheart, came his rejoinder, incredulous at best. i'm a mutt, that's who i am. it's just me, myself, and i out here so no shit you can hunt something better. he bristled hotly with a snort.
why don't you fuck off or something? go back to your... your... whatever your pack is called. sounds dumb. he couldn't wrap his tongue around whatever it had been called and it was probably for the best. she'd more than likely poke fun at him for now being able to pronounce it anyway, so why bother?