Wrong Foot Forward

He couldn't remember the last time he had to drive away a stranger. It must have been months ago, perhaps closer to a year, back before the flood left Kindred in ruins. Before he had abandoned the valley that so many of his new family had called home. It was exhilarating to him. Bringing back a level of fire to his life that he had left behind — no, he wouldn't think of that. Of his life before. This was a new beginning and it would go right.

The woman refused him, and it was enough to make his own tail lash at the air, but only once. One flick of annoyance before he dove toward her roaming position. Njal descended with his teeth in a flash of savage yellow; nipping her near the hip, swift and without too much power, trying to herd her away from her path. If she continued then they would both be in the open plains, and after that, the river would be in view. It was an hour away at the very least, but Njal intended to keep everyone at a distance from Swiftcurrent; they had no right to be near it.

After his brief snap he reversed his skull, lowering it in a single defensive manner to keep his throat protected, if she chose to retaliate; and his body overwhelmed her again, driven in to her path in order to dissuade. His teeth sheathed themselves but were ready, always, to reach out and use more force if the lone wolf continued to ignore his warnings.