Silvertip Mountain antipathy

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he snatched his paw back, chortling. buffalo never felt that he was in any real danger from his sister, but he had seen the destruction she had wrought against others. in some way he was quite proud of her violent nature, her swift switches from mood to mood.

the boy rose to his feet, lip curled in a feral warning, but his eyes had softened at the sight of her. extending his muzzle, buffalo made as if to nuzzle the proud curve of her throat, tail curled over his hips in a display of affectionate dominance, his protective nature glinting in the nature of his gestures.

byll belonged to him, to him and no other. he saw her beauty grow each day; even beneath the blood, past the mad glimmer of her eyes, the girl resembled a curved pearl, and this he did not like, and so he would guard her from those would did.