Whitefish River Feed me Seymour

The recent events had changed the tiny wolf, that was for sure. She had scars that lined her flank and ears and her grey eyes sparkled in a steely, cold way, instead of with the happiness that used to radiate from her. She watched the massive wolf from the shadows, her stormy grey eyes analyzing his movements. He was close to what she considered her territory and she didn't like it.

She stepped out of the shadows made her self known with a fierce bark. Even though she was about 5 times smaller then him her face held no fear as she approached him, her head held high and her tail out in a dominate but not aggressive way.