hit 'em right between the eyes!

So bloated with victory was she, Týrr's arrival to the scene went unnoticed up until he spoke. Jökull spun around to face him. A quick once over revealed that this was no intruder, but a pack mate. Apprehension left her, hackles and face going lax.
        “Ya scared meh!” The Sveijarn pups were heavily protected – no living thing would slip by Duskfire's borders without one of the adults knowing about it. So she thought. Knowing that put the northblood at ease, but she could not deny that she was...jumpy at times. This place – she loved it here, yet it was not accepted without a sliver of suspicion. Little did she know, that “suspicion” was instinct.
        “Killed it, I did!” If she could beat on her chest like a chimp, she would have. Instead, she settled with an upturned nose and a flagging tail. “Gonna be da bes' warrior when I gets big! Nah...I already am!” Thus began her peacock strut once more. She need not be grown in order to whoop somebody – she was just that good.