Twisted Slough i wish you'd die in the mire

His careless laughter quickly morphed into a threatening growl, reminding the wolf of his position beneath him. It was refreshing, seeing that fight he loved so much, getting to contain it. Magpie waited for him to settle, pressing his teeth the slightest bit harder into the scruff he gripped with waning patience.

Though not as easy as he would've liked, he managed to drag the wolf a small ways, merely a few paces out of the heavy mud and onto something dryer. The effort was well worth it to him regardless, allowing him to bask in Cormorants cries all the while ignoring his pitiful attempts to wriggle free. Magpie gave the wolf a rough shake, snapping him out of whatever senseless panic he was in. He then spit the pelt from his mouth, hovering over Cormorant’s crumpled form with an unimpressed glower. You really need to stop shouting.

Far more gentle than he'd been, he slowly dipped his head toward the others, nosing at the fluff of his cheek. No one is going to hear you. You're just hurting yourself. A low satisfied sigh rustled the blonde fur beneath his nose, the scent of it sending pleasant flutters throughout his chest. It was warm, like a sun baked rock in August, filling him with a sense of peace so foreign, and yet so vital to his survival.