Silvertip Mountain with my hand upon the bible

At the call, Dark Tooth was overjoyed. His true self, the one before the drugs and tests, was coming back in spurts, and today was one of the days when he was him. He loped quickly toward the howl, and soon was beside the one who had sent it, a leader, he presumed. His eyes narrowed with hate when he saw the wolves, and from his maw he issued a growl, low and warning. He was Dark Tooth. He would kill.

At the leaders words, Dark Tooth grinned. This was a hold up, a robbery of sorts. He would eagerly jump into the fray, and hoped that a fight would ensure. He looked toward the wolf leader, or at least who he presumed it to be. He smiled, a smile full of malice and hate. "Surely" he drawled in a very Snape-like voice "You wouldn't want all of your cute little friends killed, would you? Are you willing to risk their puny lives for some stringy flesh, wolf?"