Bramblepoint one in the chamber

He barely had time to hunker down in the trees and start gnawing on a leg when a larger wolf barrelled out of the them, shouting at him with her teeth bared. He was reminded at once of Rosalyn and of Thuringwethil, both wolves blurring together into the charred crimson mass that was Sphyrapicus. Sometimes those old nightmares still came, years later.

His first instinct was to drop the rabbit and retreat. Ephraim had done a lot of work on himself to be able to curb his immediate impulses, however, and held his restrain long enough to realize that despite the size, this wolf was too gangling to be a real adult. This was just a kid. She was probably about the age he had been when Drageda turned on him. Old enough to be a threat, but young enough to not have a huge advantage over him.

Ephraim lurched to his feet and stood over the rabbit, hackles raised and lips bared in a snarl. He lashed his dark tail twice and wordlessly met Sphyrapicus' challenge. The rabbit likely wasn't worth losing a chunk of his hide over, but he thought his odds against a kid were good enough that he could take a chance. He had been like her once. Full of bravado and self-importance. Then a real battle came to him and he learned not to overestimate his capabilities.

Perhaps Sphyra would do the same here.