I have no idea if this is what you mean.

sorry, the tagging didn't work.

. A howl as sent up for him. He canted his head sideways, not expecting this. Today was one of hid good days, with the bright skies and good hunting. He dragged his catches towards his den. He had found a beaver's den next to a small lake and had managed to capture the beaver. While being it back to his prey pile, which already consists of a hare. A falcon, driven by hunger, has attempted to attack him in order to get to the beaver. Defending his catch, he had manage to bring it down.

Once managing to awkwardly pull the falcon onto his back and stuffing the hare and the beaver into his mouth, he started back to his den, one of the falcon's wings hanging limply by his side. He dropped them off, not being away from his den much and raced towards where the howl was. Soon he arrived, with Creyr snarling at a stranger.

He padded closer, seeing the half-eaten fawn next to them and sniffed, the stranger's scent was all over it. He cringed in confusion, before scenting blood scent on the stranger. Immediately he realised what was going on and his anger level flared up. Did you not smell the borders. Even a pup could smell the newly marked borders. He growled.