Greatwater Lake I'm haunted by the words you say

Drogar held the other wolf’s gaze as he came forward, a sign of defiance, but he did not attack or do anything aggressive. He was stating only that he was not easily cowed.

The big male—bigger, even, than himself—came at him, testing him, nipping at him here and there. Drogar circled him, lunging away when needed, proving that he could defend himself. He did not want to retaliate, as that could be misconstrued. So he simply avoided the other man’s attacks. When a large paw came for his face, he yanked his head back, and felt the swipe a centimeter away, the air flowing towards him, the tips of the claws. They touched him, but did not break skin.

He pulled into himself, dropped low to the ground, tucked his ears against his head and his tail against a back leg, and watched the other man, gold eyes wary but challenging. He growled softly. If the dark man wanted him fall on his back and expose his belly he would be sorely disappointed. But still. He did not fight back.