Hushed Willows Quixote

He pressed closer to Stark, their fur mingling as they stared down their common enemy. And Tambourine didn't question that: Warbone was an enemy. He had been cool at first but then he had made threats, which meant he was no good. Tambourine shifted restlessly on his paws, discomfited for this situation but wanting Stark to know he was right there to support him.

Stark commanded Warbone to leave and he did, though not without making even more threats. The pup felt a rumble deep in his chest. What was this guy's problem? Who did he think he was? The slightly darker fur along the ridge of the youth's spine prickled. Only after the giant jerk was out of sight did he step away from Stark, moving just far enough away to look up at him.

"He—" Tambourine began, then clapped his mouth shut for a second before opening it and starting over. "That guy's an assbutt!"