Raven's Watch Pathetic Use of Potential

As he came upon the scene Kigipigak was angled off one side of Njord's flank; he had come along to the border and followed it out of necessity first of all, but picked up his pace when the scent of—then the voice of—Valmua lured him closer.

Then there came a familiar masculine voice; no, more of a boy's voice. Are you ready t'go, m'lady? Kigipigak's coat puffed a bit as he glared at the shape of the man. The blue-grey of their coat, trailing red—a red tail. Njord—and Valmua?

No, she isn't. Erupted his voice as he lunged from the shadowed ridge, wearing a grimace. He shoved against Njord's hip in passing with the hope of destabilizing him with the surprise of his arrival, his attention turning from him to the woman; leering, somewhat. 

Kigipigak did not know how powerful jealousy could be. He had never been jealous, not really; not of his decrepit father nor the sisters he had since disowned. He wove between the two of them as if to purposfully mark Valmua with his scent and ward the boy away.

A low rumble filled his chest as he turned to watch Njord again, bristling with purpose.