Ravensblood Forest The one that will occasionally openly steal babies

surely it could not go on for long; he must choose, and choose well. merrick was not a large wolf; his ability to drag a sinewy pup through the forest was compromised immediately.
but he was not alone, though he dared not glance in astara’s direction, unwilling to give away her presence until it was necessary. the child alongside him had begun to hesitate, and merrick made a sound of awareness low in his throat. ”not far,” he assured the boy with another friendly smile.
”they’re —” and here the coywolf galvanized himself into swift action, ducking low to shoulder the pup roughly and violently against the unyielding bole of a nearby tree.
with any luck, the small head would strike the hard bark, but his own movements must be controlled. death could not come; not yet. the idea of being directly responsible for such a quick and dire end was distasteful to merrick.
once more he sought to drive the boy harshly against the tree, once more for good measure, and came away panting, looking proudly to astara now with a delighted curve to his plume.