Swiftcurrent Creek survivor

The male's head had ducked to lick idly at stray hairs pulled loose in the morning wisps, a pink tongue showing uncharacteristic tenderness to the defiant tufts that lined his collarbone.

I'm glad you're more interested it than I was, he couldn't help to respond, a light laugh rumbling in his hollow throat. But his face looked like it had been etched in iron at the mention of his daughter.

Yes, she's here now. Left our last home not long after I did, I suppose. He still hadn't decided his true plans in dealing with her. Her ill-suited fit to her former pack had rung shame and embarrassment upon Dovev and the remaining kin up north. It was enough to let a cool rage settle in inside him, icy tendrils creeping up his throat.
I hope you're on better terms with your 'Atticus'.