Duskfire Glacier Piusik

In battle, Issorartuyok was unbreakable. His spirit was not afraid of the damage that others could cause. He had endured worse and would endure worse still. This had always been the most difficult hurdle to overcome when training the younger wolves to fight, to defend their home. He would be unmovable until he had died and then he would be no more.

Heda’s snarl did not surprise him but invigorated him. The blood that spilled from the edge of his mouth, where her teeth had met his flesh, filled the air with a sharp scent. Her fangs were still young, and this meant that her bite was vicious in its prick. Issorartuyok was pleased that she did not hold back. The glint of her eyes was lost on him. He was a man who was doing what he could to teach.

But he would not heed her demand for dominance.

The northerner pulled his head back from her, shielding his throat and his viable pain points. He drew a tongue across the bloodied lip. Issorartuyok prowled like a leopard, ready to meet Heda’s next move, to use the force of his body to show her the strength of a wolf.