Blacktail Deer Plateau But I'd rather be that than the same

The bleeding slowed with each gentle swipe of her tongue over the cut, until it oozed just slightly and Saena placed her foot back down. It stung as the wind rushed over it, but there was nothing to be done about that. It wasn't an injury worth seeing Blue Willow about. Saena was naturally unsure about putting herbs on wounds anyway, so even though she trusted her aunt more than any other wolf in the world now, it was unlikely she would allow it unless it was severe.

A soft voice behind her pulled her attention, and like wildfire her aggressive need to establish herself overtook her. She stood and slowly turned, ready to say she was fine and push some boundaries a little (nothing too risky, Saena was still only nine months old and would have time to be more pushy later), but upon being called a kid, decided it was time to be pushy now. She was a juvenile, a contributing member of the pack, and wholly unable to tell a juvenile from a yearling or an old crone, herself.

She whirled with the typical wolf ambivalence display: lips pulled back over her teeth, muzzle wrinkled, brows high and eyes direct, with her hackles raised, her tongue pressed just slightly between her teeth so its pink edge was seen, and her tail lifting over her back. "I'm no kid," she growled, edging her good leg forward as though to intimidate Eunoia with a feigned step. She did not snarl—this was not hostile—but she did maintain this expression of displeasure as she rose to her full height, which was not very considerable but still conveyed her meaning perfectly.